


every touch is ooh la la la

by vivilove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Family Drama, First Time, Hand Jobs, Jon is a Dornish exchange student, Mutual Masturbation, Now with a bit of plot, Porn With Very Little Plot, Praise Kink, Sansa is a good girl, Sexploring, Sneaking Around, Voyeurism, who is Thirsty AF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-09-25 23:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20379556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Sansa Stark is a very good girl. You could ask anyone and they’d tell you that.  Except she doesn’t always feel good. Sometimes, she even feels a bit…bad. Sometimes, there’s this other girl deep down inside who likes to make an appearance.For instance, when her parents had mentioned that they’d be housing an exchange student from Dorne for the semester, Sansa had mostly felt a vague sense of dread at the awkwardness of having a stranger living in her older brother’s bedroom for three months.However, when the young man in question tentatively approaches her father who’d been holding up his welcoming sign at the airport with a courteous, “Mr. Stark? I’m Jon Targaryen,” she hadn’t anticipated being quite so gobsmacked by his raven curls or dreamy dark grey eyes."It’s very nice to meet you, Jon. This is my daughter Sansa. She’s a student at Winterfell as well.”“It’s very nice to meet you, Sansa.”Except the way he says her name with his deep husky voice and that Dornish accent…Well, it simply wouldn’t be ladylike to repeat the way it affects her.Saan-zah.Oh my.





	1. Saan-zah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).

> Not a planned fic for me. Just a little smutty fun on a lazy Saturday gifted to Amy :)
> 
> Title taken from lyrics to 'Senorita'

Sansa Stark is a very good girl. You could ask anyone and they’d tell you that Sansa is practically perfect in every way…like Mary Poppins or something. Courteous and kind, thoughtful and poised, a studious student and the epitome of what young ladies aspire to be (or aspired to be sixty years ago anyway), she’s just so good.

Except she doesn’t always feel good. Sometimes, she even feels a bit…bad. Sometimes, there’s this other girl deep down inside who likes to make an appearance.

For instance, when her parents had mentioned that they’d be housing an exchange student from Dorne for the semester, Sansa had mostly felt a vague sense of dread at the awkwardness of having a stranger living in her older brother’s bedroom for three months.

It wasn’t that she disliked the idea altogether or didn’t appreciate the kindness of her parents offering to be a host family for someone wishing to study at Winterfell U. It was just that it would be someone, some _stranger_ knocking around the house _all_ the _time_ for _three months!_

However, when the young man in question tentatively approaches her father who’d been holding up his welcoming sign at the airport with a courteous, “Mr. Stark? I’m Jon Targaryen,” she hadn’t anticipated being quite so gobsmacked by his raven curls or dreamy dark grey eyes.

The two men shake hands as Sansa stands to the side (not remotely sweeping her eyes up and down the very fit body of her new housemate.) It’s just nice to see when someone clearly takes an interest in their physical fitness is all.

"It’s very nice to meet you, Jon. This is my daughter Sansa. She’s a student at Winterfell as well.”

Those dark eyes return to her (he’s taken a few sweeping glances of his own already-no doubt he’s interested in a balanced diet and regular exercise like herself) and she feels her cheeks flushing when he says, “It’s very nice to meet you, Sansa.”

Except the way he says her name with his deep husky voice and that Dornish accent…

Well, it simply wouldn’t be ladylike to repeat the way it affects her.

_Saan-zah._

_Oh my._

* * *

  
  
Tuesdays may be her new favorite day of the week. Why? Because that’s the day neither Jon nor herself have classes and they are home together most of the day while the rest of the family is either at work or school.

Jon is the ideal houseguest, always eager to lend a hand with the dishwasher, laundry or dishes, perfectly polite towards her parents but perfectly at ease with her younger siblings.

She wonders if he’s adapted to adapting so well after hearing about his past. Last Tuesday, they’d been stuck indoors with rain all day and wound up talking a good bit while sharing a couple of dozen pizza rolls and an entire container of cookie dough ice cream (she’d been menstrual, alright?). Jon had told her how his mother, a Northern woman as it turns out which was part of the reason he was interested in attending Winterfell, had died when he was young and he’s been cast around amongst his father’s rather mixed bunch of a family, never feeling very welcome at any of their homes but wishing not to displease anyone.

“No one’s kicking you out here, Jon,” she’d assured him to which he’d responded with one of those lady killer smiles of his that would make a mess of her underwear if Sansa Stark could ever admit to such a thing.

Towards herself, he’s somewhere between that politeness and easiness but maybe there’s something else harder to define between them which she’d really like to explore…for scientific reasons.

For example, the way he looks at her and says her name; why does that make her feel so breathless? Why does her body feel wound up like a spring around him? Was she this lonely that she was already imagining her and Jon making some sort of life-long connection over the course of his three months here? Or was she so desperate that she’s also been imagining what it might be like if he were to wear her like a belt for an hour or so on the next rainy Tuesday?

_Goodness, Sansa!_ she thinks, flushing scarlet as Jon comes downstairs to join her for breakfast today. _Jon is just Jon, the exchange student from Dorne. Get a hold of yourself._

Quiet and serious at times but capable of being quite droll and sweet at others, he’s a wonderful young man, practically perfect in his own way maybe.

What would he make of that bad girl inside her? What indeed?

See, there’s times when Jon is different around her and it’s usually on Tuesdays when they’re here alone that it happens. And, that’s when things get interesting...

“I was going for a run before breakfast,” he says, his eyes flitting quickly over her sleep shorts and cami before returning to her eyes.

It’s typical to look at someone else’s attire, isn’t it? Those eyes certainly didn’t appear any darker and he didn’t lick his lip, did he?

_Oh, yes, he did!_

And, did Sansa normally come downstairs wearing nothing but short sleep shorts and a rather fitted cami since Jon had come to stay?

_No, not really. I’m just getting comfortable around him...very uncomfortably comfortable._

“Would you care to work up an appetite with me, Sansa?”

_Saan-zah. Oh, help._

“I could but I’m not very fast. I’d probably slow you down.”

He comes over to stand beside her at the counter, his arm brushing hers lightly as he reaches for a banana, sending a flutter all through her tummy. “I’d go at your pace,” he promises.

And Sweet Maiden, the way he says that, so husky and raw with the words just barely whispering across her shoulder has her gulping for air already.

She spins to face him, putting her back to the counter and suddenly he’s so close, his full firm lips are right there and he’s grinning at her. Is he aware of the affect he’s having on her? Is this some sort of game to him? Does she care?

“I-I-I’d, uh…I’d love to then,” she stammers. He nods, obviously pleased, and reaches above her this time. “Am I in your way?”

“No, my lovely. I just need a bowl.”

_My lovely…oh, gods_. She’s sure it’s quite indecent for lips to form that sweet of a pucker simply from saying the word bowl.

Her face must already been ten degrees hotter than the rest of her body but she manages to ask, “Why are you getting a bowl if you’re going for a run first?”

Those devilish dark eyes look amused and his voice is still doing very unmentionable things to her. “Because I’ll be very hungry once we’ve worked up a sweat.”

“I’ll, um…go…put on clothes. I mean, change. I’ll be…right back,” she squeaks as he takes a step back to allow her past him.

However, exercise is a great release she’s always found for those less ladylike urges. It produces all those happy endorphins but also bleeds off some of those excess…feelings.

So, when they return home forty-five minutes later, despite her workout, Sansa is feeling reasonably cool on the inside again at least.

But perhaps Jon is not now. Maybe her slower pace had left him a touch frustrated as he seems to pace the kitchen with his banana and frosted flakes, eyeing her like a caged beast.

Admittedly, the way he stares makes her tummy all trembly again but she can handle this, can’t she?

_I mean, the being his belt thing was more of a naughty fantasy. It’s not even raining outside._

“Would you want to go catch a film today or I might go by the library for a…”

“Whatever you prefer, Sansa.” _Saan_-_zah_. “I’ll just go change,” he says, his voice no longer so assured as it was earlier and he dashes up the stairs.

“Oh, well…alright,” she answers to the now empty kitchen. She needs a shower anyway.

She climbs the stairs to her room and throws her sweaty running clothes in the hamper along with her socks. Her shortest shorts were the only one clean and her sports bra works really more like a top, she reminds herself. She had been surprised at how well Jon had kept pace with her to be honest. In fact, he remained behind her for most of the run.

Down to only her underwear, she pulls her ponytail holder out and runs her fingers through her hair to head into her bathroom without thinking twice.

Except it’s not just her bathroom right now. It’s Jon’s bathroom, too.

Robb’s been gone for a couple of years and the connecting bathroom between their bedrooms had been all hers until Jon came to stay. She’s perfectly aware of it but this morning she wasn’t paying attention and Jon had forgotten to lock the door that leads to her bedroom.

The door opens and she’s already three feet in when her brain connects the dots between the sound of running water and the steam-filled room.

_Oh, shit._

Sansa was not much of a curser, not even in her mind, but this was definitely the occasion for an expletive or two.

Her eyes are riveted to the pile of sweaty running clothes in the floor and the fact that the shower is running and…

_Jon's taking a shower. He's in here and he’s naked._

Her pulse quickens and her thoughts seem to scatter. She knows she should leave. She’s not leaving.

_One peek?_

It’s that bad girl inside the good girl who’s speaking, the one she’s definitely going to ignore.

_No, Sansa,_ the good girl inside is saying. T_urn around right now and walk out of here. Close the door quietly behind you and wait your turn to shower. He’ll never know and we’ll forget this ever…what are you doing, miss?!_

Her feet have taken two more steps closer, close enough to look.

She traces her lips with one finger as she stares at the pile of sweaty clothes he’s left lying there. She could pick them up and put them in the hamper maybe.

_Are you crazy?! Get out of here! NOW!_

Deciding the clothes are good enough where they are she hears humming. Her mouth quirks into a smile. He’s humming some old song. It’s familiar but she’s not sure of it at first.

Her eyes lift from the pile of clothes. She can make out the outline of his body through the glass. Gods, she’s grateful the shower door isn’t opaque and quickly pinches herself for the wicked thought. She’s seeing Jon, seeing his body, his perfect, delectable, cut like some sort of god body.

He’s still humming his tune, ‘The Dornishman’s Wife’ she realizes, and he’s combing his fingers through his hair as he’s washing it with his eyes closed.

_You’ve had your look, you pervy tart! _the good girl screams._ Now, get out!_

She hastens to obey this time but, just as her hand is on the handle to leave, she freezes in her tracks when the humming ends and she hears it…

“Sansa,” he groans. _Saan-zah._

She’s caught. Of course, she is. She’s absolutely mortified and the tears are already welling up in her eyes. She’s so ashamed and she hates herself, hates that maybe she’s embarrassed him or angered him or made him uncomfortable enough to think he’s going to have to leave.

She shakes her head. She doesn’t want him to leave. She doesn’t want him to be forced to leave another place, feeling like he doesn’t belong all because she’s a degenerate, disgusting Peeping Tom. _Or Peeping Tammy? Tanya? Tomina?_

“Fuck…_mmm, Sansa_…” he says this time and her eyes are drawn to him again in curiosity.

_Why is he saying it like…oh, gods!_

He’s not looking at her. She nearly stumbles backwards into the door and then quickly lurches forwards again when she sees him. His eyes are still closed and one of his hands is sliding down his slick torso before circling his…um…

_Cock, Sansa. His cock_, the bad girl inside whispers giddily.

Her mouth falls open and a tiny whimper escapes. He won’t hear her with the water running though. Plus, he’s preoccupied it seems.

_We’ve never seen this before_, that bad girl is saying.

_No, and why would we want to?_ the indignant good girl asks.

_Well, what if I want to?_ Sansa asks for herself, telling both of those inner voices to shut up.

She watches him moving his hand up and down, his cock growing bigger with each stroke.

Yes, she’s seen a naked man before but not up close or in person. Yes, she’s a good girl and a virgin and…

“Fuck…” she whines as he rolls his head back and grunts her name again.

She starts chewing on her fingernails (a horrible, atrocious habit that she certainly plans to stop…soon) and almost wishes she could help him in some way.

_No, you do not! You couldn’t possibly!_

_Oh, yes I could!_

Jon’s pumping more rapidly now, his soapy hand gliding up and down, up and down as his tongue flicks out to wet his lips.

Sansa feels that coiling spring sensation building inside of her again, just like when they were in the kitchen earlier and he was so close. Her body aches, it tingles and gods, she just has to do something!

Bemusedly, she realizes in her fog that she is standing in here wearing nothing but her panties. Her face is hot with that embarrassment again but her entire body feels hot so who cares?

She eases her fingers down the front of her panties and sighs softly when she rubs against her folds and then circles her clit.

This is so wrong, she wants to chide herself. She’s sure she’ll burn with shame for a thousand years over this. She’s also not about to stop.

She continues watching Jon as she's touching herself. There’s a thrumming in her blood and she wants to reach her zenith when he does.

She pushes one finger inside herself and can feel the pooling warm wetness surrounding her. She is desperate, desperate for this release, desperate to see Jon reach his and wishing with all her might she was brave enough to slide open the shower door and join him.

His head is bobbing back and forth and he works himself harder and faster. Gods, she’s dying to help him but she wants to achieve her own orgasm. She’s working her clit furiously while another finger is pumping in and out and she knows she can get there if he just…

“_Sansa_…” he moans again and that does it.

She’s there and then she’s gone, floating away. She’s fallen off a cliff and she’s so relieved she’s whimpering and her free hand is clutching the towel rack to keep her upright.

She wants to watch him finish but her eyes flutter close as everything around her disappears for several heartbeats. There’s a sunburst behind her eyelids and she feels like giggling.

She opens her eyes as she begins to drift down from her peak and sees him cum. His other hand slams against the shower wall and he's choking out a final guttural moan as the shower door is coated with his release. _“Saan-zah.”_

"Yes, Jon,” she sighs…and immediately panics when his eyes fly open and his head pops up.

Terrified, she jerks her hand out of her panties and darts out the door behind her.

Her heart is pounding as she hears the water cut off. She’s standing in the middle of her bedroom, trying to convince herself he couldn’t have seen her, that he had just cum and he was probably as fuzzy-headed as she felt.

He’s probably toweling off and just thinking that he must’ve imagined the whole thing. She’s riddled with guilt and still ready to giggle like a fiend. What is wrong with her? Why, oh why did the bad girl win out?!

_But he was so beautiful and I wanted to see him and…he wanted me._

She feels near tears now. She wants him, too. But how can she possibly tell him that without explaining how she knew or…

_Gods, what a mess. It’s okay though. We can fix all this and pretend it never happened. I’ll get dressed. Well, first I’ll shower_, she decides after sniffing herself. _Then, I’ll get dressed and go downstairs and I’ll bake him some cookies and ask him more about Dorne and…_

The good girl was busy doing damage control but the bad girl had a thought.

_Did you close the bathroom door behind you?_

Raising one hand to her heated cheek, she yelps when she looks towards the bathroom door and sees that no, she did not manage to close the bathroom door all the way behind her. It’s cracked open an inch or two…and a pair of dark grey eyes are watching her and he’s smirking.


	2. ...but friends don't know the way you taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more of this because you guys were so sweet in the comments asking for part 2.
> 
> Starts with Sansa but switches to Jon's POV.

She can see him and the way he’s smirking at her from where the door is cracked open leading from her bedroom to their adjoining bathroom. He’s watching her.

_Well, you watched him first!_

She’s wearing nothing but her panties after watching him jerk off whilst frigging herself like a wanton little tart.

Her nipples have hardened into tight little buds and her loins feel like they’re clenched up in an achy knot just like earlier. Is it knowing he’s looking or were these the residual effects of her orgasm?

She shouldn’t have watched him without his consent, she knows. Gods, _she knows that_ but the bad girl inside wouldn’t be denied.

‘I’m sorry,’ she wants to tell him but she’s not saying a word and he’s watching.

It’s only a handful of seconds but he’s getting an eyeful of her. Her already pounding heart beats harder, right between her ears it seems. She can only see the sliver of his face that shows through the door that’s still cracked open as she left it when she’d fled from the bathroom (and maybe she can see a hint of those magnificently sculpted abs that are still dripping from his shower…and the navy blue towel which is regrettably slung around his hips).

She’s simultaneously turned on and frightened. She’s never been near a naked man like this before. She’s never…never ever.

_Do you want to?_

This isn’t what she’d planned to do today. She shouldn’t have done what she did and she surely shouldn’t be thinking about the things she’s thinking about when it comes to Jon the exchange student from Dorne on a regular old Tuesday when no one else is home.

_Oh, shouldn’t I?_ that wicked girl inside asks.

He’s watching her and she wants to tell him to close the door.

_No, I don’t._

She should tell him to.

_But, I won’t._

She wants him to…

_Just talk to me. Or come in here. Say my name again. Saan-zah. Touch me. Kiss me. Fuck…I don’t know._

But just before she can say anything, before her brain can even begin to formulate words to express her remorse or excitement or uncertainty or horniness, the door clicks shut and she’s alone.

He’s closed the door and stopped watching her and she’s left standing in the middle of her room alone with extremely damp panties, the scent of her arousal still clinging to her fingers and the image of Jon naked in the shower and moaning her name etched in her mind for eternity.

_You should be relieved,_ the good girl says nervously. _Maybe if we bake him cookies, we can forget all about this and…_

_Son of a bitch!_ the bad girl complains. _He left us standing here wanting him! Fuck that!_

“Yeah but now what?” she asks herself aloud.

Neither the bad girl nor the good girl seem to have an answer.

* * *

It’s been nearly three weeks since he arrived, three perfectly pleasant and wonderfully torturous weeks.

The Starks are fantastic people and he couldn’t have got any luckier with his host family, he’s sure.

But Sansa…

She’s beautiful. Sparkling blue eyes like the southern sea in summer. A fine ivory complexion that’s only more perfect in his eyes with its smattering of freckles. Tall and willowy, cascades of auburn hair, possessing delicate features and sweet pink lips, she’s practically a goddess amongst mortals.

She’s not just beautiful. She’s vivacious, kind and intelligent. She makes him laugh and makes him feel welcome here even when he can tell she’s feeling a bit low herself.

_And her hair hangs down her back, rippling like a living flame, pointing towards her nicely shaped ass (that I’d give my left nut to put my hands on) which was teasing me throughout our run while that camisole she was wearing this morning did absolutely nothing to hide what might be the most perfect breasts ever fashioned by the gods or the way the air conditioning had the nipples of those perky tits pebbled, practically begging me to..._

Basically, he’s a filthy perv who hasn’t stopped fantasizing about her from the moment they met at the airport, okay?

_Even her name gets to me! Sansa…Saan-zah. Seven hells, who could blame me for thinking about her?! About it?! About all the ways I’d like to do IT with HER?!_

He’s no angel, alright? From the age of fifteen or so, girls have been drawn to him like bees to honey and he’s certainly not ran away from them.

No, he’s not exactly Mr. Smooth like some guys but the girls don’t seem to mind. They call him cute. They call him pretty. Then, they call his name…loudly.

He’s not some lothario but he’s no septon either. He’s also developed a keen instinct for when a girl is interested in him. And, if he’s interested in her, he’d always figured what’s the harm in having some fun?

Until he met Sansa that is.

Oh, he wants to have fun with her, too. Don’t think he doesn’t.

But there’s something about her that makes him hesitate. She’s so sweet, so pure…so good. He can’t imagine hurting her and Sansa’s not the kind of girl who’d be happy with a mere hook-up or a few friendly romps and then go about her business (and maybe he wouldn’t be happy with that either in her case.)

He can’t just fuck Sansa Stark (especially since he’d likely be taking her virginity if he did) while knowing he’s not staying here.

Some other guy will get to do that…the taking her virginity part, hopefully not the leaving part. Bile rises in his gullet. He detests everything about that image of some other guy and Sansa. He shoves it away, telling himself it’s not his business and to forget it.

So, he can’t make her sweet promises of forever and true love if they’re going to be lies in the end. He can’t give her the things a girl like her would want, what a girl like her deserves, when he’s going to be returning to Dorne in a less than ten weeks.

_I could give her those things if I stayed._

_Are you mad? You barely know each other and this isn’t your home anyway. The Starks wouldn’t want you indefinitely. No one does. Where would you live? And how would you afford it?_

He scowls, having no answer.

His poor mother is gone and he wonders if she’d lived if they might’ve come back up here eventually. He might’ve gone to Winterfell U from the start, might’ve known Sansa and the Starks for years even. But that didn’t happen and he’s from Dorne and this is just temporary.

He’s barely wanted down in Dorne. His father is a rather cold man whose family views his child by ‘that other woman’ with disdain and suspicion. His father’s wife’s family on the other hand doesn’t despise him like they might thankfully but it’s awkward as fuck being introduced as Rhaegar’s ‘other son’ (the one he produced while he was fucking that teenager behind Elia’s back) and watching people’s eyes widen and then their knowing smirks.

Anyway, Jon Targaryen probably doesn’t belong fucking anywhere and that’s alright. He’ll belong to himself once he finishes school. He can find his own place where he’s not someone else’s nuisance and just be.

Meanwhile, he needs to get a grip. Obviously, he couldn’t bend Sansa Stark over the kitchen counter after their run this morning as she was sipping the last of her frothy little breakfast smoothie. Fucking his host family’s daughter under any circumstances would probably be frowned upon by good old Ned and Catelyn Stark even if it didn’t occur in a food preparation area and even if Sansa were wholeheartedly in favor of that plan, he’s sure.

So, he heads upstairs for a little privacy, a little release, a desperately needed one.

Oh, but then what happens?

_If I live to be a hundred and one, I won’t forget it._

Alone in the shower, his mind immediately goes to her, to the way she’d been breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly, when he’d cornered her against the kitchen counter (yes, that had been a dick move in a way but he’d wanted to know if she might want him too) and then he starts picturing the tantalizing bounce, bounce, bounce of…fuck, all of her as they’d ran together.

He shuts his eyes while suds cascades down his skin, picturing her naked. It’s wrong of him, so wrong. She’s a good girl but he wants her to be _his_ good girl…and he wants to be her bad boy.

Only feeling a smidgen of shame over what he’s about to do, he takes hold of his cock and uses his soapy hand to stroke himself.

_Her hair, her short shorts, her camisole and that gods-damn excuse for a running top…probably nothing more than a bra. The way her face was glowing from the exercise, her skin glistening with sweat as she chatted about the library and studying and baking cookies. Cookies for fuck’s sake!_

_She’s such a good girl. But maybe not always. I’ve seen the way her eyes grow darker when I’m looking at her, saying her name and standing close and…fuck! I’d liked to have licked the sweat off her body. I’d have bit down on her collar bone, sucked a bloom on her perfect white neck and told her what a bad girl she was for making me so hard and then I’d finger her and…gods._

He’s almost there. His balls are tightening up, a rumbling growl is ready to tear from his chest. His hand’s pumping so hard and quick. He wants to pretend it’s her sweet pink pussy wrapped around him instead of…

"Sansa…"

“Yes, Jon…”

_Holy fucking shit!_

* * *

Hours later, he’s still cursing himself as a coward and congratulating himself for having at least a miniscule amount of restraint. Gods, he’d wanted to push that door the rest of the way open more than anything. He’d wanted to walk into her bedroom, wrap her up in his arms and then kiss the living daylights out of her.

Her flushed cheeks, her state of undress, her wide eyes and that particularly musky sweetness that seemed to hang in the air…he would bet his tuition on what she’d just done as she’d watched him in the shower.

And Merciful Mother, wasn’t that a revelation? Sansa Stark, his good little girl, had been touching herself and watching him cum.

But what does this mean exactly?

She’d stayed in her room for a couple of hours after he’d closed that door between them. He’d been watching television when she’d bolted down the stairs and out the door without a word after that. She’d stayed gone until an hour after everyone else had returned.

Yes, it had hurt…more than he’d expected. It was also probably for the best.

This would be a long and awkward ten weeks if she was going to avoid him the whole time but what could he do? Corner her again? Make her admit she’d liked watching him fist his cock while he’d been moaning her name? He was embarrassed by it…and also turned on. He didn’t know what to think.

_Just because I’m not as pure as the driven snow doesn’t mean I’ve got all the answers, alright?_

But everything seems like normal tonight at dinner. The boys are chatting about something with their video gaming. Arya’s excited about her upcoming fencing match. Mr. Stark is quiet but that’s normal. He gazes at his wife and answers the children’s questions. Mrs. Stark is worried the chicken’s overdone.

“No, ma’am. It’s perfect,” he tells her.

And Sansa’s sitting there, talking some but mostly watching him and…smiling. He knows because he’s watching her, too. She’s smiling at him and he feels so relieved by it and he’s soon smiling back. He wants more with this girl but he also just wants to be her friend if that’s all she wants from him.

He eats his fill of dinner and wonders if maybe they can talk about things like adults later (assuming they can get a minute alone-this household is always bustling when everyone’s here) but Sansa mentions she’s going out.

“Out? On a school night?” her mother asks, surprised.

“Yes, Mom. Just for a little while.”

“Of course, dear.”

She’s an adult and doesn’t need their permission or his for that matter. But who the fuck is she going out with?!

_It’s not your business._

“Did you want some dessert, Jon?” Sansa’s asking him now, her eyes looking rather wicked, probably a trick of the lights as she holds out the pie she’d baked with her mother before dinnertime.

“I, uh…I’m…”

“Or would you rather not have cherry?” Her eyes are definitely wicked, the little minx.

He bites his lip and watches her licking he own. He drops his voice so no one else will hear his husky reply. “I’ve never had any that I recall but you can certainly tempt me with your cherry, Sansa.”

Her eyes flash in response and he’s slow to eat his slice, praying that his erection will go back down before it’s time to help with the dishes.

* * *

Three hours later, he’s alone in his bedroom, having given up on television at last. It’s late and, as far as he knows, Sansa’s still not home. He wonders where she is and who’s she’s with. He hates the thought of her being with another man right now, he loathes it so much.

Feeling frustrated and confused, he slams his fists down on his covers and gives an exasperated sigh, thinking maybe he’ll get up and go back downstairs to watch television…and see if she’s made it home yet.

But before he can rise, his ears perk up and an electric jolt runs all through him when he hears the doorknob turning. It’s the door to their shared bathroom. He’s sure of it.

It’s pitch black in his room. Robb Stark must’ve liked sleeping in. His curtains are thick and black, blocking out the streetlamps and moonlight from outside. Jon doesn’t like the green glow of the alarm clock so he’s unplugged it, using his phone for that. But he can hear her, the soft padding of bare feet moving from the tile in the bathroom to the carpet in his bedroom.

Was it really her? It had to be. Or are his ears, heart, mind and cock all playing tricks on him?

“Sansa? Wha-"

A hand closes over his mouth and he starts to yelp, afraid he’s mistaken and someone’s come to kill him in his bed. Maybe Ned Stark can read minds.

But then he smells her, the sweet florally scent of her perfume and that citrus and almond shampoo she uses and just…_Sansa_.

The bed dips and she’s sitting beside him in the dark. His heart is pounding and he realizes he’s scared, more scared than he’d imagined he could be with a beautiful girl like Sansa sitting on his bed at night. Why? Is he afraid of her parents? Afraid of this girl? Afraid of what might happen between them? Afraid of what that might mean to his heart when it’s over?

Her hand moves from his mouth and he draws a shaky breath. Her breathing sounds unsteady, too. Is she panting? Is she as nervous as he is? More nervous probably.

“Where’d you go tonight? Where were you earlier?” It tumbles out of his mouth without a thought. It's been eating him up, too. 

“I went to the library earlier."

"And tonight?" He can hardly stand this.

"Nowhere. I didn’t go anywhere really. I drove around aimlessly and thought about what I did earlier."

"Yeah, about earlier..."

"I’m a virgin, Jon,” she whispers. He’d thought as much of course but he feels this ache fill his chest at how frightened she sounds saying it.

“We’re not doing anything,” he says, wanting to reassure her. She came in here but he won’t do a damned thing to her if she doesn’t want it. Yes, he’d cornered her in the kitchen. Yes, he’d looked at her after he’d realized she’d been in the bathroom earlier but he wouldn’t dream of forcing anything on her.

“Why? Because you don’t really want me?” she asks and now she sounds like she’s about to cry.

“Sansa…fuck, I want you. I want you so much. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

She sniffs and he wonders if she’s about to cry. She doesn’t cry. The next thing he knows, she’s running her hands through his hair. Gods, it feels so nice. Her fingernails lightly scrape at his scalp and there’s chills running down his spine but the good sort. He’s getting hard and it feels like the blood is surging through his veins as if he’s been running for hours.

She caresses his beard next and his eyes roll back in anticipation. He can’t see her but he can feel the shift of the mattress, he can feel her breath ghosting across his face. She’s going to kiss him. He’s never wanted a girl to kiss him so much in his entire life.

And it’s the sweetest kiss he’s ever known when her lips tenderly press against his for a few seconds before she withdraws. He wants more of her kisses. He wants nothing else ever again.

He lifts his head, trying to chase her lips, when she giggles softly. That ache in his chest is swelling, filling the entire cavity, making his heart thump, thump and what has she done to him with only one kiss?

“Was that…okay?”

“More than okay. It was...” _wow_. He can't quite say that aloud.

Taking the initiative, he finds her in the dark, cups her face and pulls her back down for another kiss. He wants to know the taste of her mouth. He wants more than that.

She melts against him and his hands find her waist next, pulling her down to him. He kisses her hard and needy. Gods, he needs her kiss like oxygen right now. She’s kissing him back just as forcefully. There’s moans and whimpers escaping and he honestly can’t say who’s responsible for any of them.

He can feel her complete surrender when his tongue enters her mouth. He cards one hand through her silky hair, molding his mouth to hers, a scorching hot kiss that he feels all the way down to his toes.

He pulls back to catch his breath. They’re both panting and he wishes he could see her. But if he turns on the bedside lamp, will the spell be broken? Some instinct warns him it might be so he’ll have her in the dark. And gods, does he want to have her.

“I want…gods, Sansa. I want more.”

She lets out this precious little mewl and presses her body against his even though she sounds regretful the next minute. “I’m not ready yet. I’m sorry.”

“Not that, my lovely. Don’t be sorry.” His hands glide down her body before he cups her ass and gives a squeeze. “What are you wearing?”

“I’m wearing a, uh…”

She trails off but his hands give him the answer. It’s a t-shirt, on the larger side…and no panties.

“Oh, Sansa…”

“I’m a bad girl.”

_Yes!_ “No, you’re not. Come up here. Let me…can I taste you, Sansa?”

He can practically hear the cogs whirring. Does she realize precisely what he’s asking? Will she ever allow such a thing?

Her chest heaves where it’s pressed against him. “I should say no. I shouldn’t want that…but I want it. I want you to.” _Thank, fuck_. “I’m not a good girl to do this or come in here or...”

“You’re the best girl,” he quickly reassures her. “You're my girl." Where is this coming from?! He doesn't want to tell her lies. _It doesn't have to be a lie_, a voice whispers. He can't focus on that right now. "Can we, Sansa? Can I...”

He can tell that she's nodding even in the dark. “I love the way you say my name,” she whispers in his ear.

_Duly noted._ “Come here. Let me taste your sweetness, Sweet _Saan-zah._”

“Oh, gods…” she croaks and grinds against his thigh. _Holy fuck_. He will gladly say her name a thousand times an hour if it pleases her.

He finds her hands and guides her to straddle his chest. He can feel the heat of her through his t-shirt. His fingers move from her ass to drift through her curls before lightly stroking her folds.

“Jon!” she gasps.

He chuckles and lazily swats her ass with his other hand before rubbing it tenderly. “Quiet, Sweet Sansa…we don’t want to disturb anyone else’s rest, do we?”

She’s giggling again and he knows she’d liked that.

He scoops his arms under her ass and heaves her forward, straight up to his face. She yelps again but quieter. Her center’s right over his face. He breathes in her scent, headier than wine, sweeter than her perfume. Fuck, he’s going to make a mess in his boxer shorts and he’s not put his tongue on her yet.

Wasting no more time, he swipes her folds, finding his way to her clit in the dark as she clutches his headboard and arches her back.

“Oh, fuck,” she squeals.

_Oh, fuck,_ he thinks. She’s going to fucking ruin him for any other girls.

He encourages her to relax, nosing at her folds, allowing her to become comfortable. He licks her and one of her hand is tangled in his hair. He doesn’t care when she begins to tug. He doesn’t stop. He tongues her clit, his hands roaming over her ass as he laps at her, before pulling her down even more firmly so he can shove his tongue into her cunt.

She starts moaning, a steady sound as he finds a rhythm with his tongue and he edges a finger into her tightness. He concentrates on her pleasure, trying to delay his own gratification as long as possible.

Sansa Stark, his good girl, is riding his face and he wishes again that he could see her. She’s so perfect. She’d be a fucking vision.

He’s getting her closer. Her arousal is coating his tongue, her breaths getting shorter and she begins a high-pitched chant. “Jon, Jon, Jon…”

“Cum for me, Sansa,” he murmurs into her core and he feels her shuddering above him.

He’s about to cum, too. He’s never done that just by eating a girl out. This isn’t just any girl though. It’s Sansa.

His balls tighten and his stomach muscles clench as his orgasm nears. They’re both so close. He thinks he can get her there at the same time and gods, he wants that.

He slides a finger back inside her, curling it just enough to hit that particular spot. He moves one hand from her ass, raising it up and under her t-shirt, cupping one soft round breast and tweaks her nipple. And while he’s at it, he licks upwards, gently sucking on her clit and that’s it for them both.

“Oh gods…oh gods…_oh!”_

“Sansa,” he groans, long and low, letting her name spill from his mouth like the cum he can feel spilling from his body.

She’s still shaking, her knees digging into the mattress on either side of his head, one hand on the headboard and the other tugging mercilessly at his hair as she rides out her peak.

He feels blissful and sated as she moves back towards his chest again, her breath slowing at last.

“That was…”

“I can’t believe I just did that,” she cries. “I’m…what am I doing?!”

She’s off him in a heartbeat and he’s grasping for her in the dark. He doesn't catch her and that ache in his chest from earlier swiftly becomes agonizing.

“Sansa, please…”

Her feet are scurrying across the carpet and back on the tile and the bathroom door clicks shut again. It's locked when he reaches it. She's crying on the other side of the door. He hates this fucking door with a passion. He wants to bang on it but that might wake the whole damn household up. _FUCK!_

He puts his hands over his face. His beard is damp. He can still smell her, taste her. This can’t be all. This can’t be it! He needs her! Wants her! He’s…falling for her.

_I am. I'm falling for her. My host family's daughter, Good Girl Sansa Stark with a not-so-good girl side...I'm falling in love with her. _

He's never been in love before and the fact that he's falling for this girl scares the shit out of him. 

He stumbles back towards his bed. What the fuck is he going to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, not a planned fic at all but I'm having fun so let me know if you want some more of this :)


	3. ooh, i should be running...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have a plan for this maybe...let's hope. Anyway, have some more smut and a bit more fluff this time :)

There’s no denying that breakfast is awkward the next morning, the most awkward experience of Sansa’s young life.

After what she’d done in Jon’s room last night, after what _he’d_ done to _her_, she’d panicked and ran and then spent her night crying into her pillow.

Actually, she’d not spent all her night crying. She’d spent a fair bit of the night reliving what had happened, from his sweet words to that first tentative kiss to the feel of his tongue and…

Gods above, he’s talented with that tongue. If she’d thought listening to his voice, hearing his accent could get her hot, she’d found out there was much more pleasure to be found than that when it came to Jon Targaryen’s mouth. Kisses, so many kisses he gave her freely with sweet abandon. Kisses to her lips, kisses on her tongue and then elsewhere. She thinks she’d like for him to kiss her everywhere and maybe never stop.

Still, she has no idea what to do about this or how to broach things after the way she left him. She wishes she wasn’t so inexperienced with this sort of thing. It’s not like her family lives in the dark ages. Her older brother has had more than a few girls, she knows. Though she’s two years younger, she’s pretty sure Arya’s not a virgin anymore. Why has Sansa held herself up to some standard that most kids her age simply didn’t these days? She’s not sure. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with waiting, with saving sex for someone truly special but couldn’t Jon be that someone? And, if she just wants to explore, she shouldn’t feel so terrible about that, should she?

Regardless, it’s always been inside her, this urge to please, to be the ideal, perfect daughter. It’s tiresome to be honest and maybe that’s why the bad girl inside has been getting more vocal of late, especially since Jon arrived.

But, what must he think of her childishly running away from him…twice? More than twice to be honest.

She sighs forlornly as she sets the juice carafe and coffee pot on the table like her mother asks. Jon looks up at her when she walks by his seat, trying to get her to look at him but what are they supposed to say here in front of the entire family?

_“When I snuck into your room last night, did you mind? I liked kissing you. Did you like kissing me? Did you enjoy eating me out? Would you do it again?”_

She can’t say those things here so she says nothing and avoids his eye.

Everyone else is gathered around the table digging into the chorizo omelet casserole her mother has made unexpectedly this morning, a far cry from the cereal or toast that they have most Wednesday mornings, except herself and Jon. Well, Jon does dig in eventually but his eyes are often on her as she pushes her food around her plate.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” her father asks.

She meets his grey eyes and squeaks, “Just tired, Daddy. I didn’t sleep so well.” She hates feeling guilty like she’s hiding something from him. She _is_ hiding something but she seriously doubts her father would like to hear about it. She shovels a bite into her mouth in the hopes he won’t ask her anything else. It works and he returns to his food.

“Is the casserole alright, Jon?” her mother asks beseechingly. Sansa got her eagerness to please guests from somewhere after all. “I found a Dornish recipe online last night and wanted to try it but I can’t say it’s all that authentic and…”

“It’s delightful, Mrs. Stark,” Jon says kindly but then his eyes cut to her, leaving her breathless. “I can only think of one other meal that I’ve enjoyed more here.”

_Oh, gods…oh, my gods._

Her cheeks have flooded with color and she wants to stomp on his foot. If she could be certain of where his foot was beneath the table, she would. How can he make such a spectacle of them at the table? Everyone will know!

But no one seems to think anything of Jon’s remark. They’re all just eating.

And that look he’s giving her, it’s half smolder and half frustration. She can’t blame him for being frustrated, for attempting to call her out. She should never have run off like that last night. Why was she such a fool? Why is she such a fool for him?

_Because coming to a boy’s bed uninvited that way and riding the exchange student’s face in your big brother’s bed all to satisfy your filthy, disgusting cravings is…_

_SHUT UP, YOU!_ the bad girl screams and Sansa wants to scream it with her.

The good girl is silent again and Sansa is glad for that. Fuck that girl. She’s nineteen years old, dammit. Time to take a seat, good girl. She doesn’t want to be bad necessarily but maybe she doesn’t want to be _so_ good all the time either.

_Let me just be…me._

“Jon? My car’s going in for maintenance this morning so Ned’s taking me to work. Would you mind riding to campus with Sansa? I know her classes start earlier than yours but…”

“That’s perfectly fine with me, Mrs. Stark. I’d love to ride Sansa.”

_‘I’d love to ride Sansa?’_ Did he just say that?! She’s certain her brain must have malfunctioned and she misheard him until he grins at her and she realizes he actually said that! _!!!!!!!!!_

He chuckles as a few sets of eyebrows raise. “I’m so sorry! I’d love to ride _with_ Sansa,” he corrects to which everyone else snickers. Meanwhile, he’d love to ride Sansa.

_Saan-zah._ _!!!!!!!!!!_

* * *

He’s got a license. He could drive her car. She could claim she’s ill today and miss class. She can almost hear the good girl inside having an aneurysm at the very thought of feigning illness and skipping class, even if it was to avoid doing things with Jon again.

_Yeah, we could feign illness and miss class…and invite him to do the same_, the bad girl suggests.

“No, we’re not running away again and we’re not encouraging him to skip class either,” she tells them both.

She gathers her bookbag and heads to the car where he’s already waiting in the passenger seat. Her heart is already going thump, thump just seeing him sitting there waiting for her. Does more than a small part of her want to bolt again? Yes. Is Sansa Stark that big of a coward? No.

She places her bookbag in the floorboard of the back seat and climbs in, making a fuss over checking her mirrors, clicking her seatbelt and starting the engine. She hears his audible huff and decides she can’t pretend he’s not sitting right there endlessly. She doesn’t want to do that anyway.

She turns to face him, looking at him from beneath her lashes. She tucks a loose bit of her hair back behind her ear and summons a smile for him. “Soooo…hi,” she says quietly.

His previously clenched jaw unclenches and she receives a smile in return. “Hi.” He gulps as though he’s nervous. Has she made him nervous?

“I’m sorry about what I did yesterday.”

His dark eyes turn all soft and vulnerable. “Sorry about what exactly?” he manages to croak.

He _is_ nervous. He’s worried about what she’s going to say and it hits her that she has the power to hurt him, that maybe she already has. She doesn’t want to hurt him. “Can we talk about…things.”

His brow furrows like maybe he’s afraid to talk but he nods. “What time does your class start?”

“Not until ten. I like to get there early. I go to the library to review the previous lesson’s notes and make sure I’ve got everything…” His lips twitch and she knows he’s about to laugh. She starts to scowl at him. “I just want to be…”

“A good student, a good girl, I know. I’m sorry, Sansa. I’m not making fun of you. I admire that you’re so studious and take school seriously. I try to, too.”

She relaxes. She won’t feel stupid over being a good student but appreciates that Jon doesn’t think she is stupid for showing up an hour early to study before class either. “I don’t have to be there early today. I studied at the library yesterday after…the shower.” The shower. Gods, the shower. Back where the madness began. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Sorry you watched me?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I’m only sorry I watched without your permission first.”

“I…I didn’t mind.” He huffs a laugh and she can tell he’s not sure what to make of this conversation. She’s not sure either but the fact that he’s unsure makes her feel a little less like an idiot.

“I’m sorry I came to your room last night uninvited.”

“Why? I was glad you came to me.”

She feels something blossoming in her chest and she’s pretty sure it’s a little like love maybe…or just heart palpitations. Who can say for certain? It just feels all light and floaty and flippy-floppy in there right now. It’s also getting harder to breath normally.

“Okay, then. I’m not sorry for that.”

“So, you watched me and I didn’t mind and you came to my room uninvited but I was glad you came. Are you going to apologize for kissing me next?”

“No…I’m not sorry for that.”

“Good,” he says as he raises a hand and strokes her cheek.

This is probably the closest she’s come to swooning…since yesterday at least. The last 24 hours has been filled with some swoon-worthy moments for her. And some rather X-rated ones.

She starts to open her mouth but he presses a finger to her lips. “If you apologize for the other part of last night, I’m going to have to kiss you right here on the driveway and then your brothers may very well see us.”

She giggles, feeling light as a feather. “Well, I guess I won’t apologize for that then.”

“No, you won’t.” He scrubs at the back of his neck and it’s pretty damn adorable. “But should I apologize? Was it...did I push too much?"

"No."

"Was it…did you like it?”

“Oh gods, did I?” she moans. “That was _sooooo_ good.”

His eyes seem to dilate to black in less than a millisecond. “Fuck, Sansa.” _Saan-zah_. “Can we…do we really have to go to class?!” he whines.

“Yes,” she says primly. “You have your Beyond the Wall History class today and you didn’t do well on that last quiz, you said.” He pouts pitifully and she starts laughing. “But that class isn’t until later and I don’t have class for an hour so…”

She puts the car in gear and shoots him a smirk and a wink as she backs down the driveway. He wipes his hands on his jeans and looks like he’s ready to dive at her already as she’s thinking of where to take them.

The bad girl is ready to lead a marching band as the good girl sits and scowls with her arms crossed. Sansa doesn't care. She's with Jon and she's happy. 

* * *

“Is this bad of us?” she asks in that sweet, hesitant voice of hers.

“No, it’s perfectly perfect of us,” he assures her as she turns off the headlights. Fuck, he’s getting hard. He shakes his head, still wondering if this is a dream.

The garage under the Communications and Journalism building is for faculty and she could get a ticket for parking here. They could probably get more than a ticket for what might happen next.

He unbuckles his seat belt and hears hers unclick, too. Shit, he feels dizzy. What is she doing to him? When’s the last time he went ‘parking’ with a girl? Did it ever make his pulse race like this?

_No_.

He closes his eyes, wanting to remember the way this feels. He can hear her shifting in her seat. Without opening his eyes, he feels her breath in his ear, her hair touching his cheek. "I think we’re alone here,” she whispers. Her lips touch his earlobe and it sends tingles through his body. "Can we kiss now?"

They probably shouldn’t because he’s convinced that kissing is not remotely going to be enough for him. He should hesitate, think. He doesn’t want to scare her off but he could tell her to wait for tonight. But she’s right there and he’s right here and that skirt she’s wearing is tempting as all seven hells and she wants to kiss. Fuck, he wants to kiss her, too.

“Wait,” he says before she can move. He opens his eyes again. “I want…I want to take you out tonight…or any night you say...on a date.” The garage’s lighting isn’t great but he can see the hesitancy. “Unless you don’t…” _want to be seen with me_.

“I do want that but I’m a little unsure about my parents knowing anything yet.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay.” Ned and Catelyn Stark would probably want him gone at once, wouldn’t they? Why would they want the exchange student from Dorne messing with their beautiful daughter, right?

“Jon,” she says in this tone, this slightly bossier tone he’s heard her use around the house upon occasion, mostly towards her siblings but a few times towards him. He likes it. “It’s not about you. It’s more about us and letting this be about us and no one else just yet, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, can I kiss you?”

"You better kiss me before I kiss you."

His eyes close again so he can savor this moment a little longer as she slowly moves her mouth from his ear to brush past his beard until those sweet lips of hers are on his, just like last night in his bed.

Soft and slow, her kisses are so sweet and testing. It makes his chest ache and expand. She slides her tongue past his lips that quickly part for her and then he’s kissing her back, tilting his head so their mouths are slotted together and their tongues are tasting each other’s. She tastes like toothpaste, minty and fresh. He probably tastes like the onion of the breakfast casserole and his coffee. He desperately hopes she won’t want to stop kissing him because of it.

Every nip and lick and buss ends with her plump lips puckered against his own, again and again. He loves these kisses more than anything he can name. 

_Almost anything..._

He moves his hands to her waist and they slide closer to each other, reaching across the console of her car. He’d like to suggest the backseat but he won’t push.

“Backseat?” she whispers against his lips the next instant.

Gods, she’s perfect.

Actually, she’s beyond perfect he soon discovers because after that awkward climb into the back, their bodies are pressed together, her on top of him, and their kisses become nearly frantic. The weight of her on him is just perfect, the dip of her lower back, the flare of her hips, the swell of her breasts against his chest, her silky hair falling all around him and...yeah, perfect. 

His fingers glide through her hair and she hums against his throat…before sliding down his body.

When she starts unbuckling his belt, his eyes snap back open and he whimpers. “No, Sansa…not that. You don’t…”

“I want to. Can I?”

“I…I…I…” He’s like a record stuck on a loop.

“I never have before and I probably won’t be any good at-”

His finger’s back on her lips. “Don’t say it like that. You’re amazing. I just don’t want you to think we have to do this here and now or because of last night or…”

It’s her finger pressed against his lips now. “I said I’d like to. I can feel the way you want me."

There was no denying that. "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you, Sansa."

She unbuttons his fly and there’s this twinkle of curiosity in her eyes and excitement and he thinks his heart might beat right out of his chest. He gets to enjoy these firsts with her and he’s pretty sure she’s already completely ruined him for other girls and he’s not remotely sorry about that.

She pushes his boxers down after getting him to lift his hips. He breathes in deeply as she wraps her hand around him, touching him for the first time. His body must be on fire, he thinks, as Sansa’s holding his throbbing cock.

“Is this okay?” This is allowing her to control the pace and maybe she needs that. It's new to her. He'll gladly give it to her. 

“Everything you’re doing is way more than okay.” She grins and starts moving her hand, looking up at him a few seconds later for reassurance again. He nods. “You’re doing so good, Sansa. It feels so good. My girl’s so good,” he babbles as his head drops back against the armrest on the door.

She sort of purrs in response to that. She cups his balls and a groan rumbles from his chest. She traces her finger along him, exploring, before she grasps him more firmly and start stroking again.

"Oh fuck, Sansa."

"Like that?”

“Yes,” he nearly hisses.

“Say my name.”

_“Sansa…”_ She quivers from between his knees and he remembers that she likes that.

“Were you thinking of me when you came in the shower yesterday?” she asks. Her voice is rougher sounding than normal. Her eyes are darkening. 

“You know I was.”

“Was that the first time you’d…”

He shakes his head as he fingers her hair. “Not…_unnn_…not really. First time I...shit...consciously did it but, uh...I’d done it once...oh, gods...before since I came here.” He can't really focus on anything but the way this feels. She's got all his attention. He's sweating and that familiar ache is pooling in his belly, slowly moving downward towards his balls. “Fuck, Sansa.”

"Are you going to cum for me, Jon?” she asks.

Gods be damned, if that’s not the hottest damn thing hearing Sansa Stark asking him that with her pretty, sweet mouth.

He can barely answer. His affirmative is a mere grunt. She seems satisfied with that and pumps his cock faster.

“Harder,” he begs. She complies.

"I want to make you cum, Jon. I want to feel it.”

Fuck, he’s going to blow his load in the backseat of her car in record time, right here in the faculty garage of the Communications and Journalism building and she’s…

“I want to _taste_ you, Jon.”

“_Ohgodsohgodsohgods…”_

He squeezes his eyes tight as her lips close around his cock. She sucks once tentatively. He grabs a fistful of her hair, harder than he meant to, but she only hums and fuck, that’s it. He cums in her mouth with a cry. She gags for half a second and it only makes him cum harder.

The ringing in his ears starts to subside and she’s still bobbing up and down his cock, licking him clean as his stomach muscles relax again.

“Sansa…”

She wipes her mouth, looking pleased, and leans up to kiss him. “I did that.”

“Fuck, you sure did,” he chuckles. "Come here."

He pulls her up to him, kissing her brow as his cock grows soft. She giggles and caresses his face while he’s caressing hers.

He’s in so much trouble when it comes to this girl and he doesn’t even care. “We should move your car.”

She looks at her watch. “You move it. I need to get to class.”

“I’m going to find some place quiet to park it.”

“Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I’ve got plans for you, my good girl, after class.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I’m getting my head up your skirt to return the favor for starters.” She bites her lips so sweetly and he wishes he could just hold her close for the next hour…or year. “Can I take you out tonight, my lovely?”

“Yes, you can take me out.”

She hops out of the backseat with her bookbag a few minutes later, licks her lips once more for him and then tosses him her keys. He watches her walk away with the goofiest damn grin on his face without a doubt before he adjusts his clothes and climbs behind the wheel. 

It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t want to tell her parents or not yet. It doesn’t matter if she decides she doesn’t want to do more than hold hands with him tonight. It doesn’t matter if he’s supposed to go back to Dorne in ten weeks. Somehow, he’s going to figure this out. He’s going to do everything he can to win this girl’s heart and then keep her for good.


	4. ooh, you keep me coming...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon takes Sansa out on their date. It's a history lecture so should be pretty boring, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *scuffs toe* So, I said I had a plot/plan for this and...meh, I threw it out. I'm having fun so I guess I'm going to keep winging it with this one until you guys get bored and stop commenting. There's other fics I want to work on, I promise, but I guess I'm in the mood to write a wee bit of smut for now *shrugs*

There’s only one little potential hiccup to their plan for date night.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you? It’d be no trouble to drop you both off and pick you up when it’s over.”

“Oh, no, Daddy. Jon said he’d stick to one ale at most and I’ll be so busy taking notes I might not drink at all. We’ll be fine.”

Arbor House isn’t officially part of the university but it is hosting a published historical writer who will be giving a lecture about Garth the Gardener tonight and, since Sansa’s taking Westerosi History 202, her professor had offered students extra credit if they attended...not that his good girl needs the extra credit. He’d claimed an interest in the topic and casually asked if he might tag along (as they’d agreed he would) during dinner.

Since Arbor House was primarily a restaurant, they were offering cocktail specials to go along with the lecture and that bit had her parents mildly concerned. They’re both legal but Jon knows how parents can be. At least, he thinks he knows parents like Ned and Catelyn can be anyway. His own father would ask to come along, make Jon the DD and then get sloshed.

“Have fun you two!” Mrs. Stark calls as they’re heading toward the door at last.

“Yeah, make sure to share your notes with us later,” Arya says with a touch of snarkiness. That one is too observant for her own good.

Sansa keeps giggling as she’s pulling on her coat. She’s been giggly all day ever since he’d texted her the location of her car between her first class and his where there’d subsequently made out in the backseat…before he’d made a meal out of her.

“Shush now,” he warns, “don’t want to get us busted, do you, my good girl?”

Fuck, those bright blue eyes darken to the shade of sapphires no sooner than he says it. This good girl/bad girl thing is new to him but he likes it.

She draws her finger up to her mouth as her teeth sink into that plump bottom lip. He wants to sink his teeth into that lip now. “No, I want to be good…but sometimes it’s _hard_ being _so_ good,” she purrs.

“It’s hard alright,” he says darkly before escorting her to the car. He plucks the keys from her hand. “I’ll drive so you can drink if you like.”

“I’ve got class tomorrow morning.”

“Let me clarify then. Drink only if you care to, Sansa, but this is our first date and I’m a bit old-fashioned.”

She giggles once more and it’s like these pleasant tingles washing over his skin whenever she does that. What secret power does she hold and how can he tell her he’ll gladly let her use them all on him? “My old-fashioned guy, huh?”

“Exactly. Gotta show my Northern Rose what a gentleman us guys from Dorne can be.”

“Your Northern Rose? I like that. But would a gentleman have been under my skirt before our first date, Jon Targaryen?”

“Well…” A smirk is forming and he links hands with her. No one’s going to be peeking out the front window at them. He hopes not anyway.

“Or would a gentleman let me suck him off before my class this morning in the faculty garage?”

His ears start to feel a little hot. Actually, he’s getting a little hot all over at that memory. “Now, that you mention it…”

“Or how would most gentlemen from Dorne feel about me coming to your room last night and…”

He presses a finger to her lips. “You’re going to need to stop bringing those things up or we’ll never make it to this thing.” She’s giggling again and he dares to dart forward and give her a quick kiss.

“My gentleman just kissed me before the date officially started.”

“Yeah, we do things in reverse order down in Dorne. Didn’t you know? But now you’ll have to be a good girl and wait for the rest because I’m taking you out for what will no doubt be an enthralling lecture.”

Her eyes had widened at good girl but she controls it and wags her finger at him. “I highly doubt you’ll find it enthralling based on all the groaning you’ve done over your history class.”

“Beyond the Wall History vs. Highgarden. It’s like apples to oranges,” he shrugs, knowing he’ll probably find tonight’s even more tedious than his class.

“Or crows to roses maybe.”

“Maybe. Doesn’t matter. I’ll be with you. You’re enthralling.”

Her whole playful demeanor softens and she sighs. His heart does that little stutter step thing that she can apparently make happen with the flick of her wrist or the bat of her eyelashes. Maybe it’s witchcraft over superpowers? Who cares? He loves it. He loves…

He stops himself before he can go too far. He’s tempted to confess his feelings to her but he’s a novice at that part, the confessions of feelings, and he doesn’t want to do anything to dampen their first date with things that might put them in mind of their limited time together. He’s got some plans to make about his future but tonight is for them to enjoy their first date and each other's company.

“And if the lecture doesn’t keep me riveted, I can always stare at you. Plus, there’ll be booze available and who’d say no to that?”

She’s giggling again and he’d like to keep that going all night if he can. Well, maybe he’d like a few more things out of tonight if she’s willing.

* * *

  
_It’s not horrible as historical lectures go_, the good girl says.

_Yeah, it is!_ the bad girl screams.

_Yeah, it is_, she has to agree.

She stifles a yawn and looks over at Jon who’s still nursing his one ale as promised. He probably doesn’t need the sedative effects of alcohol right now. He’s leaning on one arm and she wonders if he’d like to borrow the toothpicks from the fruit in her cocktails to prop his eyelids open.

_I’d say neither of us got a good night’s sleep last night._

Meanwhile, she’s on her third drink and feeling decidedly bubbly despite the poor man droning on about Garth the Gardener in a monotone voice.

“Can anyone tell me what became of the last Gardener king, Merx IX? Anyone? Anyone?”

“Died at the Field of Fire during the Conquest,” Jon mumbles under his breath and she’s pleased he knows the answer even if he’s as bored as she is.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “Do you want to take me somewhere else?”

“I thought you said you have a test in the morning.”

“I do.”

She frowns, knowing what the good girl would expect. Sansa never stays out late when she’s got a test the next day.

She pats his knee by way of apology. Actually, she lets her hand slide up his thigh. They’re sitting side by side at the table in order to view the raised platform where their lecturer stands and there’s a tablecloth. She can feel the heat of his leg through his jeans.

“Sansa…” he warns. _Saan-zah._

_Oh, my._

She lets her hand go a little further until it’s right at his crotch. Jon grimaces but also spreads his legs a little wider.

“This is probably bad of me to do such a thing here,” she murmurs, shimmying in her seat slightly to relieve her own blossoming ache.

“_Sooooo_ bad,” he whimpers quietly, giving her a desperate look as she cups him through the denim. His eyes flutter closed. “But so good.”

Before she can grow anymore brazen though, the server comes along, asking about refills.

“Maybe one more,” she says just to get rid of him, flushing profusely at the thought of getting caught. It’s titillating on one hand but mortifying on the other. She couldn’t possibly.

But _he_ could…

She yelps when she feels his hot hand on her thigh now. “Something the matter, Sansa?” he husks in her ear. _Saan-zah._

“I’m, uh…” Her heart starts racing as his hand goes higher, up her thigh and under her skirt.

_Oh, goodness me! Right here at the table?!_ the good girl’s fretting.

_Oh, fuck yeah!_ the bad girl inside wants to squeal.

_What the fuck?_ Sansa’s thinking as her eyes scan the restaurant. It’s fairly dark in here with a spotlight aimed at the speaker. Would anyone even know? Everyone’s either listening to the lecturer, drinking or whispering amongst their party.

His knuckles brush against her panties and he raises his eyebrows. “Yes or no?” he mouths.

_Oh gods, oh gods…you can’t!_

_Yes, you can!_

“Yes,” she mouths back to him before she loses her nerve. She leans into his shoulder, pivoting in her chair towards him just a touch.

It feels like her skin’s on fire and then he’s nudging her panties aside, slowly letting his fingers tease her folds. She’s already soaked, she knows.

“Fuck,” he mutters when he slips two fingers inside her.

She’s clutching the table for dear life when he starts pumping them in and out.

“Here you go, miss,” the server says, cheerily and she nearly cries out. Whether she’d be crying out in fear of him seeing something or crying out over what Jon’s doing, she’s not sure.

She nervously grabs her drink and chugs it. _Ladies sip_, the good girl huffs. 

“Thirsty, Sansa?” he chuckles beside her as his fingers are still inside her. _Saan-zah_.

“Thoroughly parched,” she bites out, giving him a look.

“Are you sure? You seem…well hydrated to me.” He rubs his thumb across her clit and every nerve in her body seems to be attached to that small area. “Spread your legs some more for me, my good girl,” he commands. Her body's already tensing in anticipation.

_Holy shit…I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum right here in a restaurant full of people during a boring ass history lecture with Jon’s hand under the table and up my skirt and this tablecloth isn’t even fully covering us and…_

“_Unnn_, Jon…I’m going to…” she moans quietly against him.

“Bite my shoulder, my lovely, but keep quiet,” he instructs her.

She does as he says, biting down through his sweater, wickedly wishing she could be biting into his flesh as he tips her into the abyss.

_“Mmrgh,_” she hisses into the wool as it hits her, a white hot flash of pleasure washing over her, making her whole body contract.

“That’s it. My girl’s so good. Is it good, Sansa?”

She nods shakily as she’s still riding the crest of her climax, her walls contracting around his fingers as his thumb’s still teasing her clit. “So good.”

She’s numb and dazed feeling as her body returns to itself. She’s barely cognizant of the lecturer who’s still talking or the other people around them.

“Can anyone name the reputed brother of our legendary Garth who is credited with establishing the first Northern house? Anyone? Anyone?”

“Brandon of the Bloody Blade,” Jon answers loud and clear, shaking her from her lust-filled stupor.

Sansa nearly panics at all the heads whipping their way to see who spoke but no one seems particularly inquisitive about the young man who answered or his date who’s worried she’s left a wet patch on the back of her skirt or her chair. They all turn back to the lecturer who nods and says, “Yes, that’s right. Well done.”

Jon holds up his bottle of ale to take a final sip. “I love history,” he winks.

“Another round here or are we finished?” the server asks them a moment later.

“Oh, I think we’re about done, aren’t we, my lovely? She’s got a test early tomorrow so I think we’ll take the check now.” The server nods and retreats and Jon leans into her ear. “You were finished, right, Sansa?” he asks with a smirk. _Saan-zah_.

_For now,_ she thinks before bursting into giggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I was totally picturing Ben Stein as the Economic teacher from 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off' as the lecturer here. Anyone? Anyone?


	5. her body fit right in my hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa wakes up on a Tuesday morning knowing her and Jon will be home alone all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amymel and I were discussing Jonsa smut the other day (a very mature, tasteful and intellectual discussion, I assure you) and we were both feeling the urge to write some of that. We were discussing various kinks, scenarios and such in general (A VERY MATURE, TASTEFUL AND INTELLECTUAL TALK!) and it occurred to me that in this fic, Jon needs to pop Sansa's cherry before I can proceed with some of the ideas I had.
> 
> So, here's their first time which is hopefully both sweet and hot with a touch of angst.

If someone had told Sansa Stark a month ago she’d be doing half the things she’s done lately with the exchange student from Dorne who’s living in her big brother’s old bedroom for three months, she’d have said they were dreaming.

But that was before she’d met Jon. Now, she thinks she might be the one who’s dreaming. But it’s a sweet dream, the sweetest.

It’s Tuesday morning again, two weeks since they’d gone for a run and she’d gone off the deep end afterwards, entering their shared bathroom by mistake and then staying to watch Jon cum in the shower with her name on his lips. _Saan-zah._ Two weeks since she’d snuck into his bedroom for the first time. Two weeks since they’d started this…whatever this is.

_We’re dating._

_Oh, really? How do your parents feel about the two of you dating?_ the good girl asks, making another small fissure in that box where she’s locking her unwelcome guilt for now. _This is certainly a different variety of dating for you. Blow jobs in dimly lit parking garages seems a far cry from milkshakes and movies. How about hand jobs during a history lecture, in the middle of a restaurant? Then, oversleeping the next day and nearly missing class! Stealing kisses whenever you’re alone in the same room for half a second. Sneaking off from class early for sticky fumbles in your backseat. Oh, and let’s not forget feeling each other up in the laundry room on Saturday where ANYONE COULD’VE WALKED IN AND…_

_ Shut up! No one’s asking you,_ she tells that good girl. _You don’t understand about us._

_Do you? Are you two even an ‘us?’_

_Are we?_

It’s fun. She won’t deny it. She’s curious and eager to experience these things with Jon. She’s finished denying that.

She likes to think of this as something special but she’s afraid to pin Jon down with terms and conditions. She tells herself not to ask that question, the ‘what are we?’ question. It sounds like such a romcom kind of thing. How would a guy like Jon, who’s clearly more experienced than her, react to that question when he’s only got another two months here. Would he tell her he loves her? Would he mean it? What if ultimately this is just a bit of fun for him? It hurts too much to think too hard on this so she’s keeping things light.

Except it doesn’t always feel light, not for her. For one thing, she’s coming to care for Jon very deeply. She believes it might be love even though she’s never been in love like this before. It’s a far cry from her earlier crushes and her first boyfriend who went from Prince Charming to a complete ass in no time.

But the other part that makes it feel the opposite of light, downright heavy to her heart really, is her family and the fact that the good girl inside is still part of who Sansa is no matter how often she silences her lately. She’s not used to lying to her parents this way and sneaking around. She loves her family and she knows they like Jon. How would they feel if they discovered what the two of them were doing behind their backs though? She’s been hesitant to come out and say anything but also knows them finding out on their own will make it worse. The bad girl enjoys the heady thrill of the sneaking around and she’s been happily drowning out the sanctimonious wailing of the good girl but what if they’re caught? And how does Sansa truly feel about all this sneaking anyway?

She can’t say she likes it, the fear that there’s this glaring sign hanging over her head at times or the secret that eats at her every time she tells another lie, avoids her parents’ eyes or catches her sister watching her closely. It’s a dam that could break any time now. Will she drown in tears when it does?

But there are no tears on her face when she wakes today. She glances at the time. It’s Tuesday. Last Tuesday, Rickon was sick and her mother stayed home with him. But today, Rickon should be fine. Everyone should be leaving soon, everyone but her and Jon.

She stretches and lets her worries go for a little while. Today is theirs and that’s what she wants to focus on.

A whole day at home alone with Jon. Naughty thoughts begin to stir. Naked, desperate kisses and embraces and…what else?

She smiles when she realizes it’s raining. She hears the pitter-patter against her windowsill and remembers her fantasy from two weeks ago of Jon wearing her like a belt on a rainy Tuesday. Maybe that’s a touch more than what she’s ready for but she knows she wants him and it is raining. No Mom and sick Rickon at home. No going for a run today and no running from this, no more running from her desires.

Some of her friends had told her the first time was basically just something to hurry up and get behind you. Some had told her quite a bit and very little of it was good. She hopes it’s at least a little better than that. _Won’t know until I try it, right?_

She rises to wash her face and brush her teeth knowing what she’d like to do with their day. She never has and she won’t deny some nervousness but it’s been two weeks since this all began and she’s feels ready to take this leap. Regardless, she wants to take it with Jon…even if he’ll leave her someday.

* * *

Twenty minutes have passed since she made sure everyone was gone and crawled into his bed. He’s still snoring. She’s not upset by that. He’d stayed up late Sunday night to prepare for an exam and then stayed up late last night to finish a paper for tomorrow because he’d said he didn’t want to waste their day off together working on it. They’d talked of taking a trip to Winterfell’s zoo but it’s raining and she’s got other plans now.

She’s not moving a muscle, not wanting to disturb his rest. They’ve got all day but it’s getting harder to lay still. Her mind won’t stop running through things. She’s excited and terrified, happy and impatient all at once. She closes her eyes and tells herself to go to sleep.

But before she can nod off, he sighs sleepily. She burrows deeper into the covers, snuggling so her back is up against his chest. This is perfect. He’s perfect.

He loops an arm around her waist and she feels content, safe and hidden away from the world. Maybe she will snooze with him for a while. It’s a rainy Tuesday and they’ve no place to be. They’re college students and isn’t this one of the perks of being this age and having a free day like this when her parents are at work and her younger siblings are stuck at school?

But then, he shifts his hips forward a bit and…_oh, hello!_ She starts giggling quietly, pressing her hand to her mouth.

His gravelly hum stops those giggles at once and her breath hitches when he says, "_Mmmm_, it wasn't a dream."

His arm tightens around her. He’s strong. She might not be able to break free if he meant to hold her in place. She has no interest in leaving his bed. And actually being held down by Jon under the right circumstances holds unexpected appeal for her. She’s quivery in anticipation. What will he say when she tells him her plans?

“I’m really here. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jon groans, a deep, rumbling sound that emanates from his chest. “I don’t mind.” Despite those words, he starts to move his hips away. She’s not having that. She arches her back and shoves her ass back against his hard cock. "I'm trying to maintain some control here, Sansa," he warns her. _Saan-zah_.

“What if I don’t want you to maintain control?” She reaches back and grasps his curly locks before turning her head. “Do I get a good morning kiss at least?”

“I have morning breath.” It’s a teasing huff across her cheek. He’s smiling and she knows he’s going to kiss her.

“I already brushed.”

"Are you offering to share your minty fresh breath with me, my lovely?”

“I’m offering that and more if you’re interested.”

“Fuck, Sansa…”

He leans forward to capture her lips. Languorous but heated, the kiss is an unhurried thing yet it inflames them both. He cups her face and nips at her bottom lip as they break apart to catch their breath.

It’s well past dawn but his eyes look black in the darkened room. She rolls her hips, pressing herself against him again, an invitation. She can feel him tensing as if he’s already aware of what she’s going to say.

“Jon...”

_Let’s have sex. Fuck me. Fuck your good girl who likes being bad for you. Make love to me. Make me yours. Gently and sweetly or hard and fast, I’m not sure it matters so long as it’s you doing it. Say my name while you’re doing it. Saan-zah. Be my first. Be my…please, just be mine._

She falters, unable to say all that.

He says nothing at first. Instead, he slips his hand under the t-shirt she’s worn to his bed and then down the front of the lacy black panties she’d chosen for this.

"Oh, gods,” he chokes. “You're so wet, Sansa."

“I’ve been thinking about you since I woke up. You made me this way just by me thinking of you.”

He makes a whimpery sound and it’s really the sweetest thing. Her Dornish hunk who can make her wet just by saying her name alone is as needy and desperate for her as she is for him.

“I want to see you, Sansa. I want to see all of you. Can we take this off?” he asks tugging at the shirt.

All their sneaking around aside, they’ve never been completely naked together. He’s never properly seen her breasts even. She starts to comply, telling the butterflies in her tummy to calm down. She’ll leave her panties on for now. He’s still in his boxers. She wants to ask if he has a condom. She thinks he probably does.

“Hang on.” He’s hopping up from the bed before she can pull the shirt off. He yanks back Robb’s thick black curtains and then cracks open the blinds. “It’s raining,” he says in this dreamy tone and she thinks he feels the same way she did earlier when she realized it. They’re alone here and together and it’s the perfect day for them.

He turns from the window just as her shirt lands on the floor. She starts to cross her arms over her bare breasts but stops herself. She won’t be afraid. He tilts his head to the side to look at her. It’s like he’s drinking in the sight of her in his bed, wearing nothing but her panties with her messy hair and still sleepy eyes.

He makes her feel beautiful with the way he smiles at her so softly. He is beautiful. Even with the grey skies, the morning light is filtering in enough to see everything they couldn’t see earlier. His dark curls are illuminated beside the window, almost like a halo. She can plainly see his hard body and his harder erection straining against those boxers. She wants them to come off.

“Sansa, I…”

“I want to have sex, Jon.”

* * *

Just the scent of her in his bed had made him hard. He’d thought he was dreaming but he hadn’t been. She’d been there and she still is. She wants him and gods, does he want her.

He’s mesmerized by her beautiful body. Her breasts are firm and full and perfect, rosy tipped and begging for his touch. He’s already salivating at the thoughts of putting his mouth on them. Why the fuck hadn’t he managed that yet?

_Well, backseat make out sessions aren’t the best places to get completely naked after all. And, oh yeah. This is all a dirty secret._

He hates feeling that way but it’s kind of what it feels like. He wants to tell her he loves her or that he’s falling in love with her anyway but he can’t think of how to say it. He’s a coward. Well, he did go to the student enrollment office and see about a transfer yesterday. He’s been meaning to tell her that, tell her that he wants more with her than just fooling around. Could she want those things as much as he does?

But like all the things he means to tell her, it slips his mind whenever they have a moment alone. They’re always eager to be touching and kissing when those precious moments of alone time come along and they don’t manage to say all that much.

“I want to have sex, Jon.”

Is he floored by her announcement? No. This has been building since that day two weeks ago, maybe longer even. But still, he’s relieved. He wasn’t about to push her knowing she’s a virgin. But she wants this and he is absolutely ecstatic about that.

Her eyes start to widen with worry and he realizes he’s just been standing there, staring at her and letting the words hang between them. _Talk, idiot!_

“I want that, too. I want to make love to you, Sansa.”

Her eyes brighten at his words. He said something right. He needs to use his damn words more.

“Do you have a condom?” she asks next, looking adorably flustered. “Or do you need to run to the…”

“I have condoms,” he assures her.

Did he buy them in hopes of fucking Sansa? No, he’d bought them in Dorne before he’d even met her. He’s no lothario but he never goes anywhere unprepared. His fuckwit father knocked his teenage mother up even though he was older and married and should’ve known better all around. He’s not about to do that to any girl.

She nods and he can tell she’s not sure if she’s pleased by his answer or not. What if he told her he’d known her for less than a week when he’d decided the box he’d brought with him would likely remain unopened for the duration of his stay because she was all he wanted, all he thought about?

He chickens out from admitting that and decides he needs to focus on her in other ways. Sex with a new partner for the first time can be awkward even when both parties are experienced. With a virgin, he knew it would be even more so. The girl he’d lost his virginity to wasn’t a virgin and no girl he’s been with since has been one. But Sansa is and he means to take that very much into consideration.

“Do you have lubricant?”

She blinks and then her mouth falls open. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s not looking at him when she mumbles, “I…I have some.”

“Okay.”

No matter how wet he gets her beforehand, it will likely hurt so extra lubrication will be a good thing. Not wanting to spoil the mood completely with talk of condoms and lube this early though, he crosses back to the bed and sits down beside her.

“You’re so beautiful, Sansa.” She melts into him and he strokes her bare back through the curtain of her hair. Her skin is like satin. “May I touch them?”

She smiles when he gestures towards her breasts and puffs her chest out slightly. His good girl is nervous but she’s come to his bed for something new. He knows how brave she’s being for him. He’s going to treasure this. He’s going to treasure her.

* * *

They’re on the bed. She’s sitting crisscross-applesauce like a child as his feet are dangling off the side. She unfolds her legs.

They’re going to have sex. No, they’re going to make love. _“I want to make love to you, Sansa,”_ he’d said. _Make love to you, Saan-zah. Oh, be still my beating heart. Oh, my poor drenched panties._

His hand is hot and warm against her bare skin. Strangely, the warmth makes her shiver. Or is it the way his thumb swipes across her nipple? Her eyes close so she can concentrate on the way this feels rather than her nerves.

Then, they’re kissing as he’s touching her breasts. It’s like he’s in a trance when she dares open her eyes again. He holds each breast like he’s discovering something new although she knows he’s seen and touched other girls’ breasts. She doesn’t like thinking about that. She loses herself in the kissing and touching again.

“Are they…nice?” she asks as self-consciousness finally asserts itself.

She thinks they’re okay but no guy’s ever seen them before Jon. They’re not as big as some women’s. Certainly not as big as she’s seen in some porn she’d watched when the bad girl had got curious enough to overlook the staged emptiness for some visual stimulation.

“Nice?” he says in disbelief. He’s holding one as if he’s trying to weigh it with his hand. He licks his lips. “They are far more than nice, Sansa.” She feels his breath caress her skin. “They’re perfect.” His mouth closes over a nipple.

“Oh, gods.” Tingles of pleasure fill her. What sorcery is this? She’s had his hands and mouth between her legs but no one told her how fantastic this could feel, the way it’s like sparks shooting off from wherever his tongue touches her and then flying straight to her aching, throbbing sex.

Her fingers find their way into his curls as he’s suckling gently. His hand’s back inside her panties. “Do you like this?” he rumbles. She can only manage a nod. “I’m going to make you cum, Sansa,” he tells her, his voice rough and thick with longing.

“When we’re…making love?” She’d loved it when he’d said he wanted to make love to her. That’s what she wants. She wants him to love her in every way he can.

He shakes his head ruefully. “I’ll do my best but I don’t know if I can make you cum your first time.” Her friends were right then. His hands come up to frame her face and he kisses her softly. “But I’ll make it as good for you as I can. I’ll try and make it special for you. I promise it’s going to be special to me and that’s not just because I want you.” Her friends hadn’t been with Jon, she decides. “Get your lubricant and I’ll get a condom.”

They meet back on the bed and he pulls her to him more quickly this time. He lays her back and their chests are pressed together as he’s kissing her senseless. There’s no more tentativeness to the way he’s touching her. That anticipation is back, burying her nerves.

“I can feel your heart beating,” she tells him. It’s racing in time with hers.

“I can feel yours, too. Are you sure you want to, Sansa? We can wait if you’re not ready.”

"I want this. I’m ready.”

He whips off his boxers and then helps her slide her panties off. They’re complete bare. She feels exposed, like her soul’s been bared to him but the way he looks at her so lovingly makes her realize she doesn’t mind.

His fingers drift through the curls on her mound. “So gorgeous and all mine,” he murmurs and her breath hitches once more.

He tilts his head back down to start worshiping her breasts again and his hand’s between her legs, his skilled fingers tracing her slit and his thumb circling her clit. He applies more pressure and she’s suddenly on fire. She bucks her hips, chasing that release that’s already mounting. Gods, how is this possible so soon?

He grins at her increasing desperation and she could smack that cheeky grin off his face. She won’t though. She pulls him up for a quick kiss. Just as he starts really kissing her back, she tries to guide him back towards her breasts, wanting more of that.

“Greedy girl,” he chuckles as his finger enters her now.

She’s had his fingers inside her before and it’s not hurt. Of course, he’s always had her wet before he’s entered her and she’d definitely soaking wet now. But she knows his cock’s a lot bigger. She tells herself to trust him and decides she wants to give him some pleasure in return.

“I’m not _that_ greedy, am I?” she asks with what she hopes is a fetching pout. “I’m a good girl, remember?” Her hand finds him, stiff and hot against her thigh. She wraps her fingers firmly around him and he thrusts into her hand.

“Oh, fuck me,” he groans.

“That’s what we’re doing, right?”

He nods rapidly, making her giggle.

They’re so wound up in this, wrapped up in each other, hands and mouths busy, here on this rainy morning. If a comet fell on the neighbor’s house, she’s not sure she’d know. All she can see, all she can hear is Jon. He’s everything right now. He’s everything.

She’s kissing his shoulders, biting at them as she strokes his cock. He’s about to make her come apart with his hand between her legs and his mouth on her tits. Her thighs start to tremble.

“_Ahhh_. You’re close, aren’t you? You’re ready to cum for me, aren’t you, Sansa?” _Saan-zah._

“Yes,” she whines, writhing wantonly against his hand to reach her peak.

“That’s my good girl," he says all raspy. Fuck, it’s hot when he’s talking like this.

He using two fingers now, deftly teasing her nub and then sucking more intently at one of her nipples. He’s got his other arm wrapped around her tightly, holding her close. She’s lost her rhythm with stroking him but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s intent on her finding her pleasure and he’s nearly got her there.

The stars start to come out on a rainy morning and her moans echo around the bedroom when she feels her muscles clenching up with her release.

“I’m cumming, Jon! Oh gods, oh gods…I’m cumming.”

“Fuck, I feel it. I feel you cumming for me, Sansa,” he growls. _Saan-zah._

She mewls against him as the waves are breaking over her. Her toes are curled up and she’d swear she can feel her heartbeat in her pussy now when his fingers slip out of her. She’s only vaguely aware of his hurried movements and fumbling at the bedside table until his dark grey eyes are hovering over her again.

“Sansa…now?”

She nods numbly, too blissful to worry. There’s a stretch, a pull, a pinch. She gasps softly but her orgasm is still shuddering through her when he sinks into her fully.

“Seven fucking hells,” he grunts. The reverence in his voice is at odds with his coarse language. She doesn’t mind. “Fuck, you’re so gods-damn tight.”

“Yes,” she says dreamily as he starts thrusting.

The last of her peak dies out as he’s finding his rhythm. She’s hyper aware of the way he fills her. It’s so much. It’s definitely something new to adjust to. It’s not like she’d envisioned in her most rose-colored daydreams perhaps but it’s not blah like some of her friends had suggested nor is it horrid and awful either, thank the gods. It’s nice. It’s lovely really. She loves being held by him this way. And when he kisses her, she feels those flutters and stirrings throughout her body like always and knows it could be very, very good before long with a little practice.

She watches him, watches the way he bites at his lip, the way his eyes roll back as he starts chasing his own release. She loves the way he talks to her, the way her name spills from his lips like a prayer.

“Sansa, it’s so good. You’re so good, my good girl. Fuck, you’re so tight and sweet and wet and…fuck.”

_I love you,_ she wants to say but would saying it during the act cheapen the words?

“Are you alright?” he asks. There’s a strain she recognizes in his face and she realizes he’s holding back for her.

“I’m fine. Don’t stop.”

He expels a shaky breath and starts thrusting more urgently. He shudders soon after, his hips stuttering to a halt. His head sinks onto her chest as he catches his breath.

“Shit,” he says a minute later. Her eyes widen with worry. Was it no good for him? Did she do something wrong? But he must realize how it sounds and his head pops up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I just didn’t mean to cum so fast. You were so tight on me and it felt so good and I…I’m sorry that I couldn’t make it…”

She presses a finger to his lip. “It was lovely, Jon. You made my first time lovely.”

His eyes crinkle up as a grin appears but then it swiftly fades as he gazes at her more intently. “Sansa, I’m not sure this is the right time to say it but I want to say it. I’ve never said it to another girl before but I need to say it to you. I need to say it more than anything right now because I can’t let another minute go by without saying it.” Her chest feels like it’s expanded to three times its normal size and those butterflies are going wild when he says, “Sansa…I love you.”

Her mouth opens as she prepares to reply, hoping she won’t start crying and praying he’ll understand if she does.

But she doesn’t get to reciprocate his sweet words.

“Hey? Anyone home today? Mom? Sansa? Are you here? I saw your car outside,” a familiar masculine voice calls from downstairs.

Like a couple of deer caught in headlights, they’re both frozen in place and staring helplessly at each other. They’re buck naked with Jon still…well, he _was_ still inside her a second ago.

Footsteps are thundering up the stairs and Jon looks torn between confusion and terror and the urge to stand up and protect her from whoever this strange intruder is. He wouldn’t know this voice.

“That’s Robb,” she whispers by way of explanation. Because of course her big brother would decide to pop by for a visit now!

The good girl is feeling partly smug (how now, brown cow?) and partly panicked at the thoughts of her big brother catching her in this compromising position in his old bed with the boy from Dorne he’s never met and Sweet Maiden, she’s going to die of embarrassment!

The bad girl’s busy concocting a story in case they’re caught but more intent on figuring out how badly they might be injured if they jump out the window. It’s just the second floor, right?

Meanwhile, Sansa wants to sink into the mattress and disappear as those footsteps draw nearer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun...dun...dun. Robb the Cockblocker failed to block Jon this time but he still has horrible timing.


	6. sweat dripping off me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a little fluff and smut and drama today since I was in the mood :)

His pulse is pounding. He’s still catching his breath. His cock is still…well, it _was_ still inside her a second ago. He’s a panting sweaty mess and that’s not just because they’ve just finished making love for the first time. No, it’s also because he’s just confessed his love for Sansa to her. For the first time in his life, he’s in love with a girl, truly in love, and he’s told her so despite his own multitude of fears and insecurities about how this will all go.

And dammit, this was Sansa’s first time _ever!_

So naturally, this being the life and times of Jon Fuck-My-Life Targaryen, her older brother has apparently decided to swing by for a visit on a rainy Tuesday morning. And not content to stay downstairs and wait for her to appear, he’s coming to find her because the Stark family seems to genuinely like seeing each other or something.

“Sansa? You’re not still asleep are you? Gods, I miss college.”

Her blue eyes which were wide open a second ago as they stared at each other in disbelief are already closed now, her face pinched and her body bracing for some impact as if she’s resigned to her fate of having her first time intruded upon by a sibling, as if she somehow deserves to be caught. His little good girl probably believes that in some way but she’s wrong.

_Fuck that. That shit’s not happening to my girl._

Yeah, he’s nervous, too. Jon could practically hear that doorknob turning in his mind, could almost picture some younger version of Ned Stark striding through the door with a baseball bat, could nearly picture his life flashing before his eyes.

But, here’s the thing. While Sansa’s always tried to be a perfect little girl, Jon Targaryen’s never claimed to be a good little boy. He’s been in a sticky spot or two (or twenty) in his lifetime and he also possesses a certain ‘never say die’ outlook when push comes to shove.

“Get up right now and get in the shower.”

“But…”

“Right. Now,” he says very firmly. He will not let this moment, their first time and his declaration, be tarnished all together by her brother’s wretched timing. “Get up and get your sweet ass in that shower, Sansa,” he says in a softer voice.

Her eyes flash and he can’t help smirking before he plants a quick but resolute kiss on her brow and climbs off her. She rises and starts reaching for her panties and t-shirt. He swats her ass and points insistently to the bathroom, mouthing the word ‘now.’

Her cheeks are flushed and he’d swear she’s on the verge of giggling before she lowers her eyes. “Yes, Jon.”

She whispers it all breathily or submissively or something and…what the fuck is it about the way she said it exactly that has him ready to pounce on her again? Gods be damned, he likes it whatever it is.

She scurries to the bathroom door, glancing back over her shoulder at him once more before quietly closing it and he’ll have to explore that ‘Yes, Jon’ later.

He’s barely disposed of the condom and pulled his boxers up when he can hear knocking on her bedroom door. He’s sweating again, partly from the sex but mostly from anxiety. This shit is nerve-wracking but he’ll do anything to protect her. He opens his door just as her brother knocks on hers again.

_At least, he didn’t come to this room first._

Robb Stark is slightly taller and a little broader than him but Jon’s already decided he won’t be kicking his ass today…or ever if Jon can help it. He has the dark auburn hair and blue eyes he inherited from his mother. He’s clearly thrown for a loss for a second when he sees another young man emerging from his former bedroom down the hallway in nothing but his boxer shorts.

“Oh, hey! Are you Jon?”

Jon hears the other bathroom door, the one that leads to Sansa’s bedroom, snapping shut and answers, “Yeah, that’s me.” He gives an exaggerated yawn and smiles. “Sorry, I was sleeping. I was up late last night.”

“Yeah, yeah…I should’ve called before I came over anyway. You’re from Dorne, right?”

“That’s right.”

Robb chuckles a little uncomfortably, his eyes very intently staying chin level or higher. He’s clearly not used to talking to a near perfect stranger wearing so little and standing in the doorway of his childhood bedroom. Jon figures he can use that.

“So, is Sansa here? I saw her car.”

“I’m not sure. Wait…” He leans back into the bedroom as if he’s not already actively listening to every single sound coming from the bathroom behind him. The toilet’s just been flushed and then he hears the shower turning on. “I think she must be. The shower’s running.”

“Oh, right. I’m Robb, by the way. I should’ve probably started with that.”

‘”I figured,” he laughs. Stark is definitely uncomfortable. Jon smirks…and lazily scratches his balls like he’s not got a care in the world. “Well, I’m the current resident of your old bedroom unless you were wanting to move back in.” He gestures behind him as if he’s inviting him in.

Of course, Jon doesn’t want him to come in since Sansa’s panties are still lying on the floor but he suspects Stark won’t want to either. He’s right.

“Oh, no!” he practically yelps. “I’m just…well, I’ll go hang out downstairs until Sansa’s done.”

“Great. I’ll knock and let her know you’re here when I hear the shower cut off. I’ll be down later to grab some food but I’ll let you two visit.”

“Sure, sure. Nice to meet you, Jon.”

“Likewise.”_ I would’ve preferred to meet you another time but at least you’re not trying to kill me._

He grins to himself as Robb’s headed back down the stairs. Then, he practically collapses against the bedroom door once he’s closed and locked it. He can’t quite believe he managed to sound so cool, calm and collected. He’s rather proud of himself. He’s wants to tell Sansa that the coast is clear…for now. He’d also really like to know what she thought of what he said right before the interruption.

* * *

_“Get up and get your sweet ass in that shower, Sansa.”_

_Saan-zah. Oh my._

Yes, part of her was quaking when she’d entered the bathroom and she’d nearly screeched when she heard the knocking but there was something about the commanding way Jon had ordered her in here that kept her moving. He was so authoritative or something. She liked it…a lot. She subconsciously rubs her thighs together at the memory but winces at the hint of soreness between her legs.

Taking a couple of calming breaths, she reminds herself that she needed to pee anyway and she’s already naked. She can barely hear their voices. No one’s shouting at least. Starting to think that maybe this is going to be okay despite her overwrought nerves, she climbs into the shower.

Once the water is running, she can’t hear them. She’s in her own little world and she can reflect on everything more clearly.

_Everything except Robb showing up, right?_

_Damn straight, _the bad girl smirks.

There’s a small part of her that’s curious about this impromptu visit of Robb’s. He’s been working in the Riverlands for several weeks on a special assignment for work. Why’s he here? Is something wrong or did he just have a couple of days off and decide to suddenly come visit? There’s also a little niggling fear that maybe her parents asked him to swing by to check up on her and Jon. But she doesn’t know that and she won’t know until she can look Robb in the eye and find out why he’s here. So, she decides to enjoy her shower and think about what matters more to her at the moment.

Letting the hot water cascade over her body, the muscles that have been so tense start to relax. Her head lolls back as she remembers Jon and what they did and what he said. Her heart starts fluttering, recalling his voice when he said it. He loves her. She loves him, too. She wants to say it back to him and only hopes the moment won’t be spoiled by anyone else when she does.

“Gods, you’re so gorgeous.”

Startled, she squeaks and drops the soap. “You scared me!”

He’s just on the other side of the glass, the lovely clear glass door, his eyes dark, his curls messy and that rock hard body…perfect. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He’s grinning but she bites her lip, feeling a little shy after what they did earlier. “Sansa?”_ Saan-zah._

He sounds a little anxious like he’s not sure he’s welcome now. She doesn’t want him to think that. She doesn’t want him to go either. “Were you getting in?” she asks, working up her courage and past her momentary shyness.

“I’d love to but I just wanted to tell you he’s all good and none the wiser. He’s downstairs waiting for you whenever you’re done.”

“Well, I’m not done yet.” She smiles mischievously and cracks open the shower door. “I need someone to wash my back.”

“Sansa…I’m not sure we should try anything knowing he’s here.”

“Did you lock the door?”

“I did but...” She looks at him imploringly and if he was going to make any other objections, they seem to die on his tongue. “You’ll be the death of me, my lovely,” he snickers before whisking his boxers off and climbing in next to her. “But what a way to go,” he murmurs, pulling her into his arms.

She sighs and all she can focus on his Jon’s firm, full lips and his heated gaze. She wraps her arms around his neck and tilts her head to the side, inviting him to kiss her.

“Are you alright? Are you…does it hurt?” he asks so sweetly.

She shakes her head. It’s not really a lie. It had been tender earlier but she’s not hurting now. “I’m perfectly fine.” He looks unconvinced so she lifts herself onto her toes for a second and parts her legs, letting his rapidly thickening erection slip between her wet thighs.

He groans before grasping her ass and pulling her up against him tighter. He kisses her with such searing passion it makes her dizzy. Her brother’s right downstairs waiting to see her for some reason or another. She shouldn’t be doing this but she can’t help it. She wants him again. She wants this blissful bubble of time with Jon.

But when she tries grinding against his hard cock she winces again and he’s immediately backing off. “It does hurt. Don’t pretend it doesn’t.”

“It does a little. I want you anyway,” she whines.

“I want you, too but we’re not going again so soon or here in the shower. We’ll work up to that sort of thing but my girl needs gentle now.” How her heart melts when he says things like that. He’s pressing soft kisses to her cheeks and then her neck. “It’ll get better, Sansa, but the last thing I want is to hurt you. And I didn’t bring a condom in here anyway.” He has a point there. “Turn around and let me wash you clean, Sansa.”_ Saan-zah._

His hands are so warm. They’re bigger than hers, rougher but his touch is so delicate. He washes her body like he’s cleaning a sacred idol. That’s how he makes her feel, like she’s something beyond just another girl to him.

Once her back is rinsed, he washes her hair and gods, does that feel amazing. His fingers massaging her scalp and the sweet citrus of her shampoo's surrounding them as he whispers sweet nothings in her ear with his hard body pressed against hers, it’s a sensory immersion into pleasure and she loves it.

Then, he’s the one who’s all sudsy next and she can’t help it. She has to stroke his cock, feel its weight in her hands. She wants to explore every bit of him. She loves how hot and hard but also smooth it feels as it glides between her soapy fingers.

He hums and closes his eyes, rocking his hips forward to push himself into her hands a bit more.

“Do you like this?”

“Fuck, yes.”

That word slipping from his tongue, crude though it is, makes her tingle all over. She wants to get him off. She’s actually fantasized about doing that to him in the shower since that first time she watched him. She is a very bad girl. She tells him so.

“You’re not a bad girl, Sansa. You’re so good. You’re _my_ girl and my girl is so good, remember?” he growls against her collar bone when she’s finished confessing all her filthy, horny thoughts in his ear.

“I like being your girl. I want to be your good girl in every single way, Jon. And if I’m bad, I want you to, uh…correct me.”

Those dark eyes brighten. Oh, he liked that. She’s shivering at the mere thought of what they might do.

But there’s more she wants to say at the moment, something much more important.

“I…Jon, I wanted to say it earlier but I’m going to say it now. You know I’m not experienced and that this is new to me but I know what I feel in my heart. I want you to know how happy made me earlier when you said it and I want you to know I love you, too.”

“You do? Really?”

He makes this little sound. It’s almost like half a sob or half a laugh of disbelief and it makes her heart clench. She wants him to know he’s loved, that he’s worthy of love. She’s afraid he’s not been told that enough.

“So very much.”

The way his eyes light up then, there’s nothing that can compare truly. She’s made him happy. She can almost imagine how his chest is expanding, how his heart feels almost too big just from hearing those words. It’s exactly how she felt earlier when he said them to her.

Then, he’s _consuming_ her with his mouth, kissing her as if he’s never going to get to kiss her again, like he’s going off to war and wants to pour everything he feels into the kiss. She can feel it from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

She loves him and he loves her and she loves kissing him. But kissing isn’t enough before long for they are naked in the shower and young, so very young and eager for more.

“Please, Jon…let me,” she begs, taking him into her hand.

She starts stroking him but he shakes his head and pushes her against the tiled wall. “Ladies first.”

Sansa whimpers loudly as he starts teasing her clit while his teeth nip her shoulder. She feels like putty in his hands already when he dips his head and takes a nipple into his mouth. His fingers are gentle in their probing and the water has soothed away the earlier aches. Another ache is building inside of her though and her hips rock in time with the movements of his hand, desperate to find that peak again.

“_Shhhh_, Sansa,” he warns. “We can’t be too loud.”

Admittedly, her moans were growing rather loud. “I’m sorry. I’m a bad girl,” she says with a coquettish pout.

He grins wickedly and starts fingering her again. “My good little bad girl. She needs to do what I say right now, hmm?”

“Yes, Jon.”

His cock is in her hands again but she’s barely conscious of his groans because that rush is coming over her quickly now. Her whole body’s on fire and it’s slamming into her and…

“Don’t stop, Jon,” she sobs. “Don’t stop…don’t stop…please don’t…”

“I won’t,” he grunts roughly as his fingers curl a touch and his thumb sweeps her clit one final time.

The world spins away and she’s reeling. She gasps and wildly clutches at his shoulders. Her knees are weak but she knows he’s got her. He won’t let her crash. Her choking cries come out between her teeth as she bites down on his shoulder.

“Seven hells, Sansa!”

She can’t tell if he’s exclaiming from pleasure or pain. She’s too caught up in feeling it all to even know. She’s drifting and it’s like he’s the only thing that’s real for those precious seconds of ecstasy.

He grabs one of her hands, pushing it downward as she comes to her senses again. She wraps her hand back around him and can see the pleading look.

“Cum for me, Jon. Cum _on_ me, my sweet man.”

She sinks down onto her knees, the warm water splashing off the walls and across her face. He practically hisses her name…_Saan-zah_…and she feels his hot cum on her throat and breasts.

He leans over her as the last spurts out and she kisses the tip, licking him clean.

His head rests against the wall above her and his breaths are shaky but he’s smiling and that makes her happier than anything she can name.

“We still need to get my good girl clean, I believe,” he chuckles as he pulls her back up to her feet and into a loving embrace.

* * *

He's sweaty and nervous as all seven hells and he's just telling Sansa. Robb hadn’t really planned on coming to see her this morning to be honest. He’d wanted to talk to his father first and then maybe break things to his mother.

But he’d been driving since last night, having all these conversations with himself inside his head and when he got off the exit for his hometown, he’d been on autopilot and headed straight towards the house he’d grown up in even knowing his father would be at work and his mother would likely either be teaching at the school or doing her free art lessons for the seniors down at the Wintertown Retirement Community.

And maybe he hoped seeing Sansa this morning might win him an ally.

The past three months, he’s been working down in the Riverlands. He’s not come home for the weekend in quite a while, letting his neighbor keep tabs on his flat here and telling his mother he’s sorry and he misses them but he’s been busy. Alright, he’s told his family he’s been busy working but that wasn’t the whole truth. It’s just that they’ve been enjoying their little bubble of privacy too much to go public with their relationship yet.

But things have progressed unexpectedly and now he has some very big news to share that he can’t very well break over the phone.

His boss had been understanding after he’d gone in Monday and explained and given him three days off as a wedding gift of sorts.

“YOU GOT MARRIED?!” Sansa shrieks and he cringes, knowing this reaction may very well be the same one he can expect from his mother. “WHO IN SEVEN HELLS DID YOU MARRY, ROBB?! I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW YOU WERE DATING ANYONE!”

“Sansa…I’m sure your brother will explain,” Jon from Dorne says. Robb’s appreciative of the guy trying to intervene and help calm Sansa even if it is awkward having a near stranger present for this.

Nerves had nearly got the better of him as he’d waited for her and he’d almost jetted before she’d finally came downstairs from what must’ve been the world’s longest shower, her hair wrapped up in a towel but dressed in one of her Winterfell U sweatshirts and a pair of those shorts she always wears to bed.

He’d made his confession almost as soon as he’d finished hugging her. Her initial gasp and ‘NO WAY!” had brought Jon into the kitchen, his own hair still dripping wet from an undoubtedly chilly quick shower following hers. At least, he was wearing more than his boxer shorts this time.

“How can you be married to a girl I’ve never even met, Robb? How could you get married without us there?”

His little sister’s voice is full of hurt and that hurts him. He never wanted to hurt any of them.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry to spring it on you like this. Gods, I knew you were all going to be hurt and I hated it so much which is why I came home today.”

“When did you get married?”

“Saturday. We had the weekend together and then I went to work yesterday and told my boss I needed a few days to tell my family. She’s gone to tell hers, too. Sansa, I didn’t mean for it to happen this way but…we met at work and fell in love and...”

“When did you meet?”

“Almost three months ago.”

“_Almost_ three months?! _Robb!_ Just because you’re seeing each other doesn’t mean you’ve got to get married, does it?”

“Well…” he says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “We didn’t have to get married but it seemed like the right thing to do, um…considering.”

Sansa’s eyes narrow. “Robb Stark, is she pregnant?”

“Uh…”

Sansa slaps his shoulder and he’s actually surprised she didn’t slap his face. Mom might. Arya might.

“We didn’t mean for it to happen like this but I swear to you it wouldn’t matter! I’d have married her anyway!”

Sansa crosses her arms over her chest and Jon’s just staring. Maybe he looks a little amused, too. Well, fuck. Robb can’t say he’d blame him. He’s privy to all the juicy Stark Family drama this morning after all.

“Look, Sansa…I know, I know you’re probably disappointed in me but...”

“It’s not that. I want you to be happy, Robb.”

“She makes me happy, I swear. And the pregnancy wasn’t planned but there’s no way I’m walking away from them.” Jon at least seems to give him a nod of approval. This guy’s okay. “It’s crazy but I love her and she loves me and…she’s amazing, Sansa. You’ll see.”

Her angry look softens. “She’d have to be amazing to win your heart, Robb.”

Her eyes flicker to Jon and for a second, Robb thinks he sees something pass between them, some understanding. He’s glad she’s not yelling now but what was that? Before he can question it, Sansa’s asking her name.

“Oh, it’s Rhae. Well, Rhaenys but she goes by Rhae.”

“Rhaenys?” Jon repeats. His voice is suddenly quite brusque, almost…angry.

“Yeah, Rhaenys Targaryen. She’s from Dorne originally too actu-”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish. There’s a fist making contact with his jaw.


	7. ooh, when your lips undress me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE THANKS to Lisa for the pretty picset!

Of all the people in his fucked up family, barring his deceased mother, Rhaenys has always been the one he’s been closest with by far. From the day he’d been sent to live with his father and his father’s wife and half-siblings, his half-sister has never made him feel like _he_ was the one who’d caused any of them harm simply by existing.

When she’d left for college six years ago, he’d been terribly depressed. And after she’d finished school and said she wasn’t planning on returning to Dorne any time soon, he’d started making his own plans of how he might leave Dorne someday.

So, yeah…Robb Stark knocking his sister up kind of rubs him the wrong way even if he did wind up marrying her.

He’s a hypocrite. He knows it. After all, didn’t he just deflower Robb’s little sister in his old bed like an hour ago?

_I sure as fuck did._

And did he turn around and lie in the man’s face acting as if he didn’t even know if she was home or not when they’d been about five seconds away from getting busted? And then proceed to take a shower with Sansa, giving her a handjob and getting one in return before bouncing downstairs like it was just another Tra-fucking-la Tuesday morning?

_Yup. Your point being?_

He’s always had a temper. He knows this. His father’s side of the family is nuttier than squirrel poo to put it mildly and his mother had her own sort of wildness he’s been told. He’s been in his share of scrapes and sometimes been tempted into throwing a punch first and asking questions later. So, sucker punching Robb Stark over Rhaenys is not really the worst thing he could do, right?

_Admittedly, it wasn’t well thought out,_ he admits to himself when Sansa turns on him.

“What did you do that for?!”

“That’s my half-sister he knocked up!”

She gasps in shock and he’s sure she’ll see it his way. He’s wrong. “Well…that’s…still no excuse for punching him, Jon!”

“It felt like a great time to punch him to me!”

“Wait…Rhae’s your sister?” Robb asks groggily.

They both ignore him.  
“And I guess by that logic it would be perfectly acceptable for him to punch you back if he…” She trails off and he can tell the wheels are turning. His good girl still doesn’t want to get caught even if she’s wanting to call him out on his hypocrisy.

“Shit,” he huffs before helping Robb back to his feet and apologizing.

“It’s alright. If the shoe were on the other foot…” Robb gives Sansa a glance.

Apparently, he didn’t catch what she’d been about to say while he was still on the floor. For half a second, he’s tempted to stick his chin out and tell Stark to go ahead. _But getting hit isn’t really any fun so…_

“I can’t believe you're Rhae’s brother,” Stark chuckles next.

“Half-brother, yeah. Anyway, I am sorry for hitting you.”

He glances at Sansa, wanting her forgiveness more than Robb’s to be honest. She rolls her eyes and starts making breakfast. He’s got more apologizing to do.

He’s still apologizing later when he calls Rhaenys and fills her in on how he met her new husband. And she doesn’t even know the full story.

At least, he can truthfully tell her he’ll be happy to be an uncle._ “As long as you’re happy, Rhae.”_

_“I am. And I’m super excited to be coming there now that I know you’ll be there, too.”_

_“Wait? You’re coming here?”_

_“Yeah, Robb wants me to meet his family. He’s coming to Dorne to meet ours soon but we figured I could go there first.”_

Rhae’s coming here to meet the Starks. This could be interesting. And could it be a good time to go ahead and come clean about his and Sansa’s relationship? And share how he’d like to transfer and live in town?

And if the newlyweds stay here, what does that mean? Robb and Rhae could share his old room if they like. Jon will gladly bunk with Sansa. That would certainly make things interesting.

* * *

What a day it’s been. Sansa still can’t reconcile it all in her head. For a rainy Tuesday it’s been the most memorable rainy Tuesday in the history of rainy Tuesdays.

Obviously, sex for the first time was not something she was going to forget. Then, Jon telling her he loved her. Then, Robb’s arrival and…well, it’s been quite a day.

Her mother has stopped crying at last. Her father’s glacial silence has ended. They’re in the den talking with their oldest while the younger ones loiter outside the doorway, making up excuses about needing water or a post-dinner snack. The conversation’s going well now that the initial reactionary emotions have settled. Robb’s going to bunk in with Bran because he doesn’t want to push Jon out of his bed.

_But will Jon be in his bed much tonight?_

_Stop that_, she tells the bad girl although she’s grinning. She doesn’t want him to spend the night in there when he could spend the night in here.

_And what about tomorrow, young lady?_ the good girl chimes in. Gods, that girl needs to chill.

She does have a point though as Sansa’s well aware. In fact, she stopped loitering outside her father’s den forty minutes ago so she could come upstairs and study. She’s been eager to spend time with Jon but things have been so hectic and she’s got a huge test in the morning that she hasn’t managed to do a bit of studying for with everything today.

Arya pokes her head in when she’s finally decided Robb’s not going to be disowned or die tonight. “You alright?”

She looks up from her notes. “I’d be better if I could summon Hipparchus back to life to explain this to me.” She’s never been a fan of higher mathematics. Jon is. She should probably have asked him to help her._ Like you’d be doing much studying with him in here,_ the good girl scoffs.

Arya shudders in sympathy. “Good luck with that. But I meant are you alright with all of this? With Robb and…well, you seemed preoccupied at dinner.”

Preoccupied is a good word for it. All day, Jon’s been trying to catch her alone and talk but there’s been someone around and they’ve never had a chance. Of course, she’s forgiven him over the punch but she knows it’s eating at him. But with Jon, talking probably wouldn’t be enough.

_I was preoccupied at dinner because our Dornish exchange student kept stroking my thigh under the table during dinner even though Dad was RIGHT THERE. He kept teasing me with those sultry damn looks he’d shoot my way whenever he’d make seemly innocent comments about dinner._

_“How do you want yours, Saan-zah? Hard or soft? Oh, the spice is perfect. It’s got just the right heat and wetness to it.”_

Taco Night had never been so sensual.

_Then, when his fingers started toying with the edge of my panties, within centimeters of my pussy, mind you, he starts asking Dad about work all while I was freaked out that we’d be caught and busy having a little panic attack over the fact we’d just had sex for the first time today and not really liking having to hide that from you all what with Robb’s news and now I’m realizing I’m going to be an aunt at 19 and that Jon and I are related by marriage apparently and…ugh._

She wants to tell someone part of that. She wants to tell someone, meaning another girl, that she’s not a virgin anymore and that she’s in love. She wants that someone to be Arya.

“I’m okay, thanks,” she says, chickening out. Sharing confidences with each other is something the sisters have struggled with at times and this is one of those times. She regrets it but that’s how it is.

“Okay. Goodnight, Sansa.”

“Goodnight.”

She covers her eyes when Arya closes the door behind her and flops back on her pillows. Studying for math has to be one of the greatest torments ever invented especially when the very hot and tempting guy from Dorne you’re in love with is just through the adjoining bathroom and probably as bored as she is.

She must be sleepier than she realized because she starts nodding off when…

“Am I forgiven for punching your brother yet?”

Her eyes are now covered by someone else’s hand. She gasps and can already feel her stomach muscles tightening up.

“Jon!”

He covers her mouth as he uncovers her eyes. She’s blind to everything but those grey eyes of his staring back at her hungrily. Gods, he smells good. He must’ve showered again after he went for a run this afternoon. Ah fuck, the shower. That brings all kinds of thoughts to her thirsty mind.

His weight has her pinned to the bed. She can feel the bulge of his erection. She can’t deny that it excites her.

Tenderly, he plants three kisses along her jaw line and whispers in her ear, “Am I forgiven for teasing at dinner, Sansa?” _Saan-zah. Oh, my._

He’s still covering her mouth so she nods.

“Good, I’ve missed having time alone with my good girl for hours now and I need her tonight.”

She muffles a moan against his hand when his other one starts tugging at the t-shirt she’d planned on sleeping in. His fingers trail up her thigh just like he’d been doing at dinner. They’re so hot and rough feeling against her silky skin.

“The door,” she whimpers behind his hand.

“Locked, mine and yours both.”

She glances at the clock. It’s barely past 9. “Everyone’s still awake.”

“Then, I guess you’ll have to be quiet. Can you do that for me, Sansa? Can you be my quiet little good girl?”

“Yes, Jon,” she breathes and damn, his eyes are so dark already.

“Let’s see how you do then. But if you can’t be quiet, Sansa, I may have to…correct you.”

That husky tone, that dominance…it sends a fresh wave of heat racing to her pussy, making her so wet she’d be dripping if she were upright.

_Correct you._ He’s not forgotten what she said this morning then. _Fuck yes, correct me._

His hand continues its trip up her thigh and tugs at the waist band of her panties. She lifts her hips and he slides them out of the way, pulling them up to his nose.

“So sweet,” he murmurs as he inhales. “Are you wet for me already?”

“Yes, Jon,” she whispers.

“Were you wet for me at dinner?”

“Yes, Jon. I didn’t want to get caught but…you were touching me. I can’t help it.” She blushes and he’s pleased by that.

“Spread your legs for me, Sansa.”

She does but he doesn’t dive in or anything. He pulls her t-shirt up to her belly button and just stares at her naked lower half with a smile playing on his lips. She starts squirming, wanting him to do something but he remains where he is, straddling her knees, and he shakes his head.

“Good girls are patient, Sansa. I promise good things are coming for you. Tell me something, gorgeous…” He leans forwards. His mouth is hovering just above the curls. “Is this beautiful pussy all mine?”

“All yours.” Fuck, she needs him to touch her. She’s aching. She’s throbbing. And he’s just staring at her!

Then, he does touch her but not where she’d expected. Regardless, it’s like something ignites under her skin wherever he puts his hands. He starts massaging her legs, the flat of his palms slowly caressing upward along her calves and thighs before he moves them back down again. At first, it’s nice but soon it’s not enough for her.

Her heels are digging into the mattress in desperation. Every stroke, he gets closer to touching her pussy but he hasn’t quite got there yet.

“Please…” she begs.

“Please, what?”

“I want you to kiss me…down there.”

“You want a kiss, my lovely?” She nods. “Very well but you must be quiet.”

She feels his hands suddenly slide under her body as he leans forward again and cups her ass. Her arms reach out blindly for something to hold onto when he lowers her mouth to her at last. She bucks her hips, pressing herself right against his tongue. He immediately flattens it against her clit before sucking gently. She’s not prepared for the jolt of desire that unleashes.

_“Ahhhh, fuck!”_ she wails before she can help it.

"Shhh! You said you could be quiet,” he says harshly.

He’s off her in a flash and she’s feels bereft at the loss of his weight. Before she knows it, he’s roughly rolling her over. She has half a second to look back over her shoulder before his palm comes down hard on her ass, a stinging slap.

She gasps and he rubs the place he’s just spanked. “Alright, my lovely?” he husks, his eyes black as sin.

She nods vigorously, pressing her thighs together and jutting her ass upward a fraction.

He chuckles and says, “One more.”

She’s ready this time and buries her face in her pillow. The sting lasts a mere second. _“Mmmph!”_ How can she be so turned on by this?

He rolls her back over and pulls off his shirt and tells her to take hers off, too. She’s completely naked and he’s still in his joggers. That’s okay. He’ll get naked eventually.

He covers her with his body again but his movements are slower now. He cradles her face between his hands reverently before kissing her with sweet passion. “You’re my good girl, my best girl…my only girl,” he murmurs.

“I’m your girl,” she breathes before kissing him back.

“Are you going to be quiet now?” he asks when they come up for air.

“Yes, Jon.”

She might not be totally sincere with that ‘yes, Jon.’ She quivers a little remembering the thrill of being corrected earlier. She thinks he suspects as much.

“Spread those legs for me again. Hold on to the headboard.”

It’s hard, so hard to stay quiet while his tongue slips along from the top of her clit and licks down in a lazy circuit, teasing her, promising that floating bliss of release. She wants him inside her so bad. She arches her back and thrusts her hips forward, begging him for more. He obliges, his tongue working in and out of her. She can hear him inhaling for air. Or is he just that fixated on breathing her in? He’s groaning as he works her up.

He’s working himself up, too. “Fuck, Sansa.” She raises her head enough to see him stroking himself a few times before he’s got both hands on her hips again. Gods, she wants to get him off, too.

His face is probably a slick mess by now, his beard coated in her. She concentrates on keeping her moans to a minimum. She wants him to spank her again but she also doesn’t want him to stop right now. His tongue doesn’t stop. His fingers have joined the action. He’s grunting with every thrust inside her until he laps his way back up to lick her clit.

“Oh, gods,” she murmurs. “Right there.”

His face hovers over hers the next second. It’s as wet as she imagined. She can smell her arousal on him as she whines, not sure if she’s more sorry he’s stopped or more eager for him to fuck her now.

“What did I say, Sansa?”

“To be quiet.”

“Good girl,” he smirks and kisses her.

She’s tasting herself when his tongue glides into her mouth. She welcomes it with a whimper and sucks on his bottom lip when he tries to pull away.

She feels the bed shift and opens her eyes again. She can hear the rustle of fabric as he takes off his joggers. He’s not wearing any underwear and his cock springs forth proudly, eagerly. He’s pulled a condom packet from his pocket. He won’t be knocking her up. They might be an aunt and uncle soon but neither of them are ready for parenthood yet.

But, he’s going to make love to her for the second time ever. She reaches for him. “Now, now, now…”

His hard, hot cock is at her center as he covers her again. She loves the feel of his body on top of hers. She can feel him guiding himself between her legs, teasing her slit with his tip, using her own wetness as their lubricant this time. He inches in and back out as she hisses.

“Does it hurt?”

She nods while saying no.

“Which is it, my lovely?”

She clutches his shoulders, her nails digging in just enough to get his attention. “It hurts a little. I want it anyway.”

“Gods, Sansa,” he moans before kissing her again.

She focuses on the slow, wet sounds as he inches in and out of her. Her breath keeps hitching when he enters and then she huffs in frustration when he pulls out. “This is torture,” she tells him though he can tell she’s mostly kidding.

“Patience,” he teases as he goes in farther and then pulls out again. “I like watching this.” And his eyes have been glued on that, watching his cock slip in and out. She decides to watch, too.

And, just when she thinks she can’t take any more, when she thinks she might rake her nails down his back to get him to drive into her all the way, his hips thrust forward and he’s completely sheathed inside her.

“OH!” she gasps.

Gods, it’s a lot to take in. But he stays still and starts kissing her neck. How’d they do this earlier again? _Oh, yeah…like that,_ she thinks when he starts moving slowly, a pleasant rocking in time that she’s soon matching.

It doesn’t take long before she’s adjusting, accepting the invasion, glad of it even. He grasps for one of her legs, pulling it over his hip before he goes deeper. It’s good but she wants something else. She starts bucking against him more urgently, the pleasant rocking suddenly not enough.

“Alright?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to cum?”

“I…I’m not sure. I…”

“You want to cum for me, Sansa?”

She nods helplessly. Yes, she wants that so much.

He pins her arms over her head as he grinds against her, stimulating her clit with every thrust.

“Oh gods, oh gods…yes…YES!”

That was much closer to a shout than a whisper. And if he pulls out now, she may never forgive him. He doesn’t.

He leans closer, biting her neck. “That’s right. You’re almost there.”

A few more strokes brings her to that edge and then pushes her over. Her releases her arms so she can hold him close as the exquisite, rippling wave of pleasure washes through her.

He pounds into her relentlessly now, frantically chasing his own peak. But she’s still riding her orgasm out and loves every bit of this.

_“Ahhhh, fuck! Sansa!”_

“Quiet,” she whispers before smacking his ass as he shudders and cums at last. He stills the movement of his hips but she can still feel his cock pulsing inside her.  
They’re both sweaty again, for the second time today, they’re sweating in each other’s arms.

“I love you,” he pants.

“I love you, too.”

They listen carefully for sounds of anyone moving around outside the door. He gets up to dispose of the condom and she goes to pee. She pulls her t-shirt back on but leaves her panties off and invites him to spend the night. He grabs his boxers and his glasses from the other room. They brush their teeth at the sink together, their hands finding each other’s for a quick squeeze or a gentle caress. They smile at each other through the mirror. It’s almost like they’re living in their own place together.

“Do you still need to study?” he asks as he climbs under the covers and they turn out the lights.

“Probably but I’d rather have tonight here with you,” she replies, nestling into his arms, feeling so loved and content.

Come the morning she may regret that decision when she walks into class but right now she has everything she wants. She has Jon holding her in his arms and is very glad that no one is knocking on either of their bedroom doors immediately after they’ve made love this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I passed the buck on the bulk of the drama post Robb's reveal until later on because this fic is all about smutty fun for me. Obviously, some shit will blow up later but I wanted them to have sex without interruption at least once *shrugs*
> 
> ***Author's note 12/9/19*** This was a smutty one shot that grew into a multichapter on me. I would like to finish it but my heart's not in it right now. I'm sorry. I do hope to become inspired again with it in time and thanks for understanding.


End file.
